


* LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, t 



, I A' 

{UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.! 



hi 



%>^ <%.«*-^^<^-^^^.^,^-%,'%.[p) 






M 



■ 

■ 



I 

r»r,■...•^■S■ l ».•'. , ■ 

I M 

■ 







<JBi 



:^/. 



0L 







Nearing Home. 



*\fl* 



COMFORTS AND COUNSELS FOR THE AGED. 



COMPILED FOR THE 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. 



• - 






PHILADELPHIA: 
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. 

No. 821 CHESTNUT STREET. 






3>A* 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 

THE TRUSTEES OF THE 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Eastern 
District of Pennsylvania. 



Wbstcott & Thomson, 

StEBEOTYPERS, PffLLADA. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

PREFACE 9 

WOULD YOU BE YOUNG AGAIN? Caroline, Baroness of Nairn. 11 

THE REVIEW OF LIFE Anonymous. 13 

THE OLD FOLKS Anonymous. 34 

NIGHTFALL Margaret Junkin. 36 

FATHER, I KNOW Miss A. L. Waring. 38 

OUR- ONE LIFE Horatius Bonar, D.D. 41 

RETROSPECT Martin F. Tupper. 43 

REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE Archibald Alexander, D.D. 45 

CHRISTIAN GRACES FOR THE AGED Anonymous. 53 

BRIDGES A. D. F. Randolph. 55 

A LITTLE WHILE Greville. 58 

THE FRUITLESS TREE John M. Lotvrie, D.D. 60 

AFTERNOON Margaret Junkin. 62 

OLD AGE ANTICIPATED ; Rev. Reuben Smith. 64 

LOVING-KINDNESS Rev. Samuel Medley. 76 

A FEW MORE DAYS Horatius Bonar, D.D. 78 

ABIDE WITH ME Rev. Henry Francis Lyte. 80 

GOD IS MY LIGHT Hengstenberg. 82 

THE PILGRIM'S RETROSPECT Rev. Robert F. Sample. 84 

3 



4 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS Anonymous. 87 

THY SAVIOUR'S PRAYER Anonymous. 94 

THE AGED CHRISTIAN Anonymous. 96 

THE VOICE FROM GALILEE Horatius Bonar, D.D. 99 

THE FATHER-LAND From the German of Claus Harms. 101 

THE PALM James Hamilton, D.D. 103 

GOD, MY EXCEEDING JOY James W. Alexander, D.D. 107 

A NAME IN THE SAND Hannah F. Gould. 109 

STILL WILL WE TRUST William H. Burleigh. Ill 

A PROSPECT OF HEAVEN Isaac Watts, D.D. 113 

COUNSELS TO THE AGED Archibald Alexander, D.D. 115 

NEARER TO THEE Miss Sarah F. Adams. 125 

MY REST IS IN HEAVEN Anonymous. 127 

THE CROWN OF MY HOPE William Cowper. 129 

HOME IN VIEW Rev. John Newton. 131 

EVENING TIME James Montgomery. 133 

HUSBAND TO WIFE John M. Lowrie, D.D. 134 

TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER William S. Plumer, D.D. 142 

NOTHING BUT LEAVES Anonymous. 151 

GOD, OUR HELP Isaac Watts, D.D. 153 

I KNOW THAT I MUST DIE ' From the German of B. Schmolke. 155 

AS CHRIST CHOOSES Richard Baxter. 157 

THE BLESSED HOPE Rev. Augustus M. Toplady. 159 

PIETY EXEMPT FROM THE DECAYS OF AGE John Gosman, D.D. 162 

HEAVEN Anonymous. 166 

LIGHT AT EVENTIDE Anonymous. 168 

TRUST Martin F. Tupper. 170 



CONTENTS. 5 

PAGE 

ALL IS WELL Anonymous. 172 

TO THE UTTERMOST Rev. Gardiner Spring Plumley. 174 

A LITTLE WHILE Horatius Bonar, D.D. 181 

PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED Archibald Alexander, D.D. 183 

I SHALL SOON BE DYING Anonymous. 192 

THE LOSS OP MEMORY Anonymous. 194 

PRAYER OE AN AGED BELIEVER ^ Sir Robert Grant. 201 

HEAVENLY REALITIES From the German op J. Lange. 203 

SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE Rev. John Kennedy. 206 

CHRISTIAN'S VIEW OF ETERNITY From German op C. C. Sturm. 215 

DIM EVE DRAWS ON Anonymous. 217 

THE INFIRMITIES OF AGE Anonymous. 218 

JOYS TO COME From the German of H. C. Von Schweinitz. 229 

THE PROMISED STRENGTH . Anonymous. 231 

TARRY WITH ME Anonymous. 245 

OUTLIVED HER USEFULNESS Mrs. Adeline T. Davidson. 247 

THE HOPE OF THE DISCONSOLATE Sir Robert Grant. 252 

NEARER HOME Alice Cary. 254 

BEYOND THE SUNSET Rev. Robert F. Sample. 256 

THE UNCHANGING FRIEND Anonymous. 258 

THE SYMPATHY OF JESUS Paul Gephardt. 273 

THE FRIEND UNSEEN.. Charlotte Elliot. 276 

YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE James W. Alexander, D.D. 278 

SOJOURNING AS AT AN INN A. D. F. Randolph. 285 

TO AN OLD DISCIPLE William S. Plumer, D.D. 288 

ONLY WAITING Anonymous. 302 

FRIEND AFTER FRIEND DEPARTS James Montgomery. 304 



6 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

WORDS IN SEASON Anonymous. 306 

THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE From the German. 327 

THE VERGE OE LIFE Philip Doddridge, D.D. 330 

YONDER Horatius Bonar, D.D. 332 

TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL Anonymous. 334 

OLD AGE John Walton. 350 

FULLY RIPE Anonymous. 351 

THE HOUR OF DEPARTURE Rev. John Logan. 353 

HOW TO DIE SAFELY Archibald Alexander, D.D. 355 

OUR BELOVED HAVE DEPARTED From the German op J. Lange. 364 

CONFIDENCE IN GOD Paul Gerhardt. 366 

THE BANKS OF THE RIVER Anonymous. 369 

HEAVENWARD From the German op B. Schmolke. 387 

WHEN WILT THOU DIE? Anonymous. 389 

THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH Rev. William Romaine. 392 

A LITTLE WAY Miss Josephine Pollard. 405 

SUPPORT IN DEATH From the German of N. Hermann. 407 

THE HEAVENLY REST Anonymous. 409 

AGED BELIEVER AT THE GATE OF HEAVEN....Thos. Guthrie, D.D. 425 

A BETTER COUNTRY Rev. John Newton. 427 

GRANDMA IS DEAD A. D. F. Randolph. 428 

LONGING AFTER HEAVEN De Fleury. 432 

CROSSING THE RIVER Rev. Robert F. Sample. 434 

HEAVEN Horatius Bonar, D.D. 437 

HERE AND THERE Anonymous. 439 

THAT LAND From the German of Uhland. 441 

PRAYER FOR ONE NEARING ANOTHER WORLD...A. Alexander, D.D. 443 



CONTENTS. 7 

PAGE 

GOD OF MY YOUTH Isaac Watts, D.D. 450 

I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY William A. Muhlenberg, D.D. 452 

THE LORD'S MY SHEPHERD , Rouse. 454 

THE PILGRIM'S SONG Anonymous. 455 

WORN AND WEARY S. Roberts. 457 

AS THY DAYS Ltdia H. Sigourney. 459 

THE HEAVENLY REST William B. Tappan. 460 

THY WILL BE DONE Charlotte Elliot. 461 

OUR HOME Anonymous. 463; 



PEEFACE. 



In this day, when so much labour is expended in 
producing almost innumerable books for the young, 
there is danger of our neglecting the generation who 
are about to pass off the stage of life. Yet there is 
a host of men and women in the decline of life who 
will be glad to receive a few words of instruction, of 
sympathy and of kindly cheer. For such this book 
has been prepared. May Grod bless it and make it a 
blessing to all such readers ! 

It will be seen that the materials for the volume 
have been gathered from a great variety of sources. 
Special acknowledgment is due to a volume entitled 
"Life's Evening Hour," published by the Religious 
Tract Society of London, from which several of the 
excellent anonymous pieces have been taken. 

W. E. S. 



Nearing Home. 



|jf mtlir g0u bt ftamtg Sgam ? * 

CAROLINE, BARONESS OF NAIRN. 

Would you be young again ? 

So would not I ; — 
One tear to memory given, 

Onward I'll hie ; — 
Life's dark wave forded o'er, 

All but at rest on shore, 
Say, would you plunge once more, 

With home so nigh ? 

If you might, would you now 

Retrace your way ? 
Wander through stormy wilds, 

Faint and astray ? 
Night's gloomy watches fled, 

Morning all beaming red, 
Hope's smiles around us shed, 

Heavenward, away! 

* Written in the author's seventy-sixth year. 



11 



12 NEABING HOME. 

Where are those dear ones, 

Our joy and delight, 
Dear and more dear, though now 

Hidden from sight ? 
Where they rejoice to be, 

There is the home for me ; 
Fly, time, fly speedily ; 

Come, light and life ! 



[ibleto of 1 tfje* 



ANONYMOUS. 



The busy day of life is over. Its pleasures, its 
duties, and its anxieties have passed away. The 
sunshine and the shade, which alternately marked 
its path, have alike disappeared ; and the soft tints 
of evening are gathered over the sky. 

The evening of life ! Yes : life has its sunset hour, 
its twilight season. The dim eye, the silvered lock, 
and the feeble step indicate that the closing period of 
earthly existence has arrived. How rapid has been 
the flight of time ! How near must be the approach 
of eternity ! 

The gradual decline of health and strength is a 
kind and merciful preparative for the solemn change 
which awaits us. It seems to lessen the reluctance 
which our nature feels to give up life ; to wean us 
from the varied attractions of earth ; to soften the 
abrupt transition from the present to a future state 
of being. It accustoms us to the consideration of 
death : it assists us in the realization of immortality. 

The evening of life ! Evening is the time for rest. 



13 



14 NEABINQ HOMK 

The little bird seeks its leafy roost ; the rosy child 
throws aside its playthings and falls asleep; the 
weary labourer comes home from his work. The 
cares of the day are forgotten ; and all is hushed and 
quiet. And life's closing hours, Christian reader, 
should be distinguished by serenity and repose. 
You must not harass and perplex yourself now with 
occupations which were once both appropriate and 
necessary, nor repine because you are unable to exert 
yourself as in former days. Your strength is to sit 
still. Old age is the resting-place in the journey of 
life ; and the feverish heat of noontide is exchanged 
for the refreshing coolness of twilight. 

An impatient, restless, grasping, or dissatisfied 
spirit is not consistent with the character of an aged 
pilgrim. Habitual quietude and self-possession 
should mark his demeanour. Neither the excite- 
ments of the world, nor the agitations of the pro- 
fessing church, should ruffle your equanimity; for 
you are too experienced a traveller in this vale of 
tears to be discomposed by the distractions around 
you, or to doubt the wisdom and faithfulness of Him 
who makes all things work together for good. 

Your rest in Christ, your trust in him as your 
Saviour, should be more perfect, more unwavering 
than in earlier years. "I know whom I have be- 



THE BEVIEW OF LIFE. 15 

lieved, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that 
which I have committed unto him against that 
day,"* should be the assured expression of your con- 
fidence in him. Firmly placed on the Rock of ages, 
and fully conscious of the security of your position, 
your closing life should be a realization of that 
promise in which Grod has engaged to keep in " per- 
fect peace" those whose minds are stayed on him.f 
The cheerful, all-sustaining faith of an aged Chris- 
tian is one of the best testimonies to the worth and 
reality of religion, and furnishes a bright and en- 
couraging example to the lambs of the flock. Weary 
and distressed by the arduous conflict in which he is 
engaged, the youthful Christian is frequently too 
ready to conclude with the desponding patriarch, 
"All these things are against me;" J or to exclaim 
with the sorrowful Psalmist, "I shall perish one 
day."§ At such seasons in his experience his faith 
is strengthened and his hope is revived as he be- 
holds the tranquillity and peace of some advanced 
believer, who has safely passed through similar 
trials and successfully surmounted similar tempta- 
tions to his own, and who is now enjoying a foretaste 
of that rest which remaineth to the people of Grod. 

* 2 Tim. i. 12. t Isa. xxvi. 3. 

% Gen. xlii.36. § 1 Sam. xxvii. 1. 



16 NEABINO HOME. 

Such repose is to him a pledge of his own partial 
deliverance from toil and conflict ; and the contem- 
plation of it enables him to gird up the loins of his 
mind, and to run with patience the race set before 
him. 

Then let those around you, Christian reader, see 
that your hope is like an anchor sure and steadfast ; 
that you are now confidently resting upon those 
principles which have hitherto sustained and guided 
you. Let no doubt shadow your peace ; no anxiety 
ruffle your composure. You have struggled long 
with trial and temptation ; you have tested in your 
own experience the truth of God's promises; you 
have done his work among your fellow-men; and 
now you must calmly wait until your Father's loving 
voice bids you welcome home. 

The evening of life ! Evening is the time for re- 
flection. Amidst the busy and exciting occupations 
of the day there is seldom much opportunity for 
serious consideration. Well- disciplined minds, it is 
true, can control their thoughts, and gather them 
around high and holy subjects, even in those mo- 
ments which are necessarily devoted to worldly busi- 
ness ; but most persons are so harassed and engrossed 
by the constant claims upon their time and attention 
as scarcely to be able to cast a hurried glance on 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 17 

things which are unseen and remote ; and they feel 
how welcome and how desirable is the evening hour 
for quiet meditation, for self-examination, and for 
the formation of wise and good purposes. 

Now, reader, your eventide of life should be con- 
secrated to calm and elevated thought. Through 
the long period which is passed you have not per- 
haps redeemed much time for hallowed considera- 
tion. Martha-like, you may have been cumbered 
with much serving; or, Israel-like, you may have 
forgotten the Lord your God. But whatever ha& 
been your previous history, you are now, by the 
infirmities of age, withdrawn from active duties, that 
you may muse upon coming realities. How thankful 
should you feel that there is yet a brief space allotted 
you for pious thought and preparation, before you 
go hence and be no more seen ! 

In the peaceful twilight hour, when we sit alone 
and commune with our own hearts, our thoughts- 
naturally turn to the occurrences of the past day.. 
Little incidents, too trifling perhaps to speak about, 
are reviewed and dwelt upon ; virtuous actions which 
have been performed win the approval of conscience,. 
and wanderings from duty call forth feelings of 
regret ; pleasing events and painful trials have each 
a share in our pensive musings ; varied indeed are 



18 NEARING HOME. 

the scenes which one day's panorama brings before 
our view. And then we generally glance at the 
future. We arrange our plans for the coming day ; 
we look forward with glad expectance to the joys 
which are in store for us ; or we shrink in fear and 
despondency from the troubles which seem associated 
with the morrow ; and will not your thoughts, aged 
reader, thus chiefly divide themselves into retrospec- 
tion and anticipation ? 

Retrospection! "Thou shalt remember all the way 
which the Lord thy Grod led thee these forty years 
in the wilderness."* Old age is the most appropriate 
season for this consideration of the past. The judg- 
ment is not so likely to be warped by the heat of 
excitement, nor the feelings to be swayed by the 
influence of passion, as in youthful days. The 
veteran, as he recalls the battle-field, can mark 
events and form opinions far more advantageously 
than the soldier who is engaged in the midst of an 
action. Contemplate, then, your whole life from the 
dawn of infancy to its present decline; trace out 
the many windings of your pathway through the 
world; survey each minute feature of your changeful 
history. 

But is it pleasant to look back? Are there not 

* Deut. viii. 2. 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 19 

many places in our pilgrimage where memory dis- 
likes to linger? are there not many facts in life's 
early records which we feel happier in forgetting? 
True, the remembrance of our imperfections and our 
sins is painful and self- condemning ; yet it is always 
best to open one's eyes to the truth. Enter, then, 
into a full and faithful examination of your past 
history. Scrutinize your motives by the tests with 
which God's word furnishes you ; and try your con- 
duct by his holy law. Let neither pride nor preju- 
dice hide the real state of things from your view. 
How important is it that, on the confines of eternity, 
you should be kept from self-deception ! Ask God 
himself to be your teacher. Make this your prayer : 
" Search me, God, and know my heart : try me, 
and know my thoughts : and see if there be any 
wicked way in me, and lead me in the way ever- 
lasting."* 

What, then, is the result of your investigation? 
What verdict does conscience, enlightened from 
above, give concerning the past ? It may be, nay, it 
must be, that you find enough in your recollections 
to overwhelm you with sorrow and confusion. So 
much selfishness and worldliness have mingled with 
your brightest deeds ; so much unfaithfulness has 

* Psa, cxxxix. 23. 



20 NEABING HOME. 

been connected with your professed allegiance to 
Christ; so much impurity of heart and defilement 
of life are discovered by your rigid self-inspection, 
that you are ready to exclaim with the Psalmist, 
"Enter not into judgment with thy servant, Lord: 
for in thy sight shall no man living be justified."* 
Or perhaps your reflections on the past have con- 
vinced you that you have hitherto been living with- 
out God and without Christ in the world ; that you 
have been so absorbed with the trifles of earth as 
to have forgotten the attractions of heaven ; that, 
although a responsible being, and liable to be sum- 
moned at any moment to your final account, you 
have gone carelessly on in the ways of sin, and have 
disobeyed the commands of the Most High. 

The retrospect in either case is humbling. Yet 
it leads to hope, and peace, and salvation. Both to 
the troubled Christian and the penitent sinner the 
cheering annunciation of the gospel is, " The blood 
of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin."f "Be- 
lieve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be 
saved. "J Then, "though your sins be as scarlet, 
they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red 
like crimson, they shall be as wool."§ " Come unto 
me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I 

* Psa. cxliii. 2. t 1 John i. 7. t Acts xvi. 31. 3 Isa. i. 18. 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 21 

will give you rest."* Full and free forgiveness is 
offered to all who seek it at his cross. Cast yourself 
with all your sins, however great their number or 
aggravated their guilt, at the Saviour's feet, saying, 
"Lord, save me: I perish!" and his gracious re- 
sponse will be, " Thy sins are forgiven ; — go in 
peace, "f 

Let the sorrowful and self- abasing remembrance 
of your iniquity make Christ in your estimation 
increasingly precious. Your sin is the dark back- 
ground which throws his love and his atonement into 
strong relief. Without his sacrifice and intercession, 
how dark would be life's evening ! Not one star of 
hope would illumine the sky ; not one ray of glad- 
ness would beam on your spirit. But now the light 
of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of 
Jesus Christ casts a lovely and softened radiance 
on all around you and before you. Oh, as you be- 
hold by faith the Lamb of God which taketh away 
the sin of the world, as you thankfully recognize 
in him your gracious Mediator and ever-prevalent 
Intercessor, can you not exclaim with the aged and 
rejoicing Simeon, " Lord, now lettest thou thy ser- 
vant depart in peace : for mine eyes have seen thy 
salvation ?"J 

* Matt xL 28. f Matt. viii. 25 ; Luke vii. 48-50. % Luke ii. 29. 



22 NEABING HOME. 

But the consideration of the past should not only 
awaken penitence, it should excite gratitude. You 
have been wonderfully preserved from many dan- 
gers ; you have been safely guided through many 
difficulties ; you have been continually enriched with 
numberless blessings. Surely goodness and mercy 
have followed you all the days of your life. Recall 
some of the multiplied proofs which you have had 
of God's tender, parental care over you. It would 
be impossible to recount every instance of his good- 
ness towards you, for memory, always imperfect, is 
now sadly impaired; but "forget not all his benefits." 
Each comfort which you have enjoyed through life 
came from his beneficent hand; each impulse to 
good and each resistance to evil which you have felt 
was through the impartation of his grace. Can you 
not heartily acknowledge the truthfulness of that 
charge which the dying servant of the Lord pressed 
home upon the Israelites around him ? — " Ye know 
that not one thing hath failed of all the good things 
which the Lord your God spake concerning you ; all 
are come to pass unto you, and not one thing hath 
failed thereof."* Oh yes ! every aged believer will 
testify to the faithfulness of God in the fulfilment of 
his promises. You can look back to several points in 

* Joshua xxiii. 14. 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 23 

your history, where, but for the interposition of 
God's providence, or the aid of his Spirit, you must 
have been overwhelmed by temptation and sorrow. 
Many have been the occasions when you have had 
to set up your stone of remembrance, and to confess 
that hitherto the Lord hath helped you. Even as to 
your trials, you can see now, with regard to some of 
them at least, that they were "blessings in disguise;" 
and you are sure that they were all sent for some 
wise and loving purpose. With what grateful emo- 
tions, then, should your recollections of by-gone days 
be accompanied ! 

And should not gratitude for past mercies be com- 
bined with hope for future favours and deliverances ? 
" He thanked Grod, and took courage."* When you 
think of the increased weakness and perhaps suffer- 
ing which you have yet to bear ; of the inevitable 
separation between yourself and those whom you 
love which will soon take place; of the valley of 
the shadow of death through which you must pass, 
and of the solemn moment when your spirit shall 
depart from this world, — natural feeling shrinks from 
the scene before you. " Cast me not off in the time 
of old age," is the language of your heart; " forsake 
me not when my strength faileth."f Hearken to 

* Acts xxviii. 15. t Psa, lxxi. 9. 



24 NEABING HOME. 

the immediate reply of the God of your salvation : 
" I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."* " Fear 
thou not ; for I am with thee : be not dismayed ; for 
I am thy God : I will strengthen thee ; yea, I will 
help thee ; yea, I will uphold thee with the right 
hand of my righteousness. "f Ah! you can read 
these assurances in the page, not of inspiration only, 
but of experience. You can infer with certainty, 
from God's conduct in past days, what its complexion 
will be in future moments. He is the same yester- 
day, to-day, and for ever; and therefore in the 
loving-kindness which he has hitherto manifested 
towards you, you have the surest pledge of the con- 
tinual exercise of his power and goodness. He hath 
delivered ; he doth deliver ; in whom you trust that 
he will yet deliver. " The God who hath fed you all 
your life long " is your God for ever and ever ; and 
he will be your guide even unto death. 

Anticipation! Looking back should be combined 
with looking forward. The weary pilgrim, who re- 
calls with mingled sorrow and gladness the events 
which have occurred during his journey, will also 
think of the rest and the welcome which wait for 
him in his happy home. The Christian traveller, as 
evening is closing in around him, and the objects 

* Heb. xiii. 5. t Isa. xli. 10. 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 25 

of earth are fading from his gaze, loves to let his 
imagination dwell upon the many mansions in his 
Father's house, where a place is being prepared for 
him. 

' 'A little while, and every fear, 

That o'er the perfect day 
Flings shadows dark and drear, 

Shall fade like mist away ; 
The secret tear, the anxious sigh, 

Shall pass into a smile ; 
Time changes to eternity — 

We only wait a little while." 

The morning of joy is close at hand; the things 
which are not seen and eternal are every moment 
drawing nearer to you; the promised inheritance, 
incorruptible, undefiled, and never-fading, will soon 
be actually yours. Meditate on the glory which 
shall presently be revealed. Consider how perfect 
in its nature, and how perpetual in its duration, is 
the happiness which God has provided for you in his 
everlasting kingdom. An eminent minister, who 
was spending an afternoon with some Christian 
friends, was observed to be unusually silent. On 
being aroused from his reverie by a question which 
was addressed to him, he said that he had been 
absorbed in the contemplation of eternal happiness. 
" Oh, my friends !" he exclaimed, with an energy 



26 NEABING HOME. 

which arrested the attention of all present, "think 
what it is to be for ever with the Lord ; for ever, for 
ever, for ever!" 

But is the prospect of heaven thus attractive to 
you? Have you any true sympathy with its joys, 
any congeniality of spirit with its bright inhab- 
itants ? You of course hope, when you die, to go to 
heaven ; the most thoughtless and worldly-minded 
characters hope that, not because they aspire after 
more intimate communion with God and closer con- 
formity to his image, but because they associate the 
idea of happiness with heaven; and it is the in- 
stinctive desire of their nature to wish to be happy. 
But unless we are made meet for the inheritance of 
the saints in light, the enjoyments of heaven, were 
we allowed to be there, would be positively distaste- 
ful to us. The unjust and the unholy would be 
unjust and unholy still, and in a world of perfect 
truth and purity would find no source of satisfaction. 
A clergyman was conversing with an intelligent 
woman in his parish, who was ill and dying. After 
he had ceased talking to her, she said with an ex- 
pression of much distaste, " If heaven be such a 
place as you describe, I have no wish to go there." 
Such an avowal may seem unnatural, but it would 
be the confession of every un sanctified heart, if men 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 27 

seriously considered the character of celestial happi- 
ness. The songs of the redeemed cannot change the 
heart, nor the glory of the heavenly city transform 
the spirit. What fellowship can light have with 
darkness ? 

Aged reader, rest not satisfied with anything short 
of a true preparation for everlasting bliss. It is easy 
to bear the name of Christian. But without " holi- 
ness" no man shall see the Lord* " Except a man 
be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of Grod."f 

How shall you attain this preparation ? By sim- 
ple faith in Christ, by the grace of the Holy Spirit. 
External acts of devotion, alms-giving, self-denial, 
or large charitable bequests, cannot purchase your 
passport for heaven. The righteousness of God, 
which is unto all and upon all them that believe, 
and the sanctification of the heart which is effected 
by the power of the Holy Spirit, must be yours be- 
fore you can enter into everlasting glory. And they 
may be yours — yours now. Put your trust in that 
Saviour who has declared he will in no wise cast out 
those who come to him ; and seek for the gift of that 
Holy Spirit which is promised to all who earnestly 
and perseveringly ask for it; and you shall have 
everlasting life. 

* Heb. xii. 14. f John iii. 3. 



28 BEARING HOME. 

But it is possible that some humble-minded and 
timid Christian hesitates, from a fear of being pre- 
sumptuous and self- deceived, to appropriate those 
joys which are at God's right hand. Gladly would 
you anticipate the moment of your departure hence, 
could you be sure that an abundant entrance would 
be ministered unto you into Christ's kingdom. But 
although you cling to the Saviour as your only hope 
of salvation, and are anxiously striving to bring 
forth the fruits of the Spirit, you cannot rise to that 
happy confidence which many Christians feel in the 
prospect of eternity. You cannot echo their peace- 
ful and unwavering declaration, " We know that if 
our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, 
we have a building of God, an house not made with 
hands, eternal in the heavens."* You are like the 
pilgrims on the Delectable Mountains, whose hands 
shook so that they could not look steadily through 
the perspective- glass at the gate of the celestial 
city. 

Yet, fear not ! it is your Father's good pleasure to 
give you the kingdom ; the promised possession is 
secured to you, although you are unable to realize 
your interest in it. It is both your privilege and 
your duty to seek earnestly the " assurance of hope;" 

* 2 Cor. v. 1. 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 29 

but remember, for your consolation and encourage- 
ment, that the weakest believer in Christ is as safe 
as the most rejoicing Christian. Keep your eye 
fixed upon your Saviour ; strive to follow in his 
steps ; use with constancy and diligence the means 
of grace which he has provided; and you shall 
eventually attain to that perfect peace which casteth 
out fear. "At evening time it shall be light."* 

Happy are those whose hope is clear, whose faith 
is strong, and who, in the consciousness that the 
time of their departure is at hand, can look to the 
past and to the future, and meekly but confidently 
affirm with " Paul the aged," " I have fought a good 
fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the 
faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of 
righteousness. "f Joyful assurance! Bright antici- 
pation ! Well may such aged believers have an 
ardent desire to depart, and to be with Christ ; well 
may they long for that rapidly approaching hour 
when he shall present them faultless before the 
presence of their Grod with exceeding joy. 

The evening of life! Evening is the time for 
prayer. Then the lisping babe folds its little hands 
and utters its simple words of supplication and 
thanksgiving ; then the pious family assemble round 

* Zech. xiv. 7. t 2 Tim, iv. 6. 



30 NEARING HOME. 

the domestic altar; then the thoughtful Christian 
retires into his closet, shuts his door, and prays to 
his Father who seeth in secret. The comparative 
quietude which exists in the world around him, and 
the repose which spreads itself over the face of 
nature, seem to soothe the spirit of the wearied be- 
liever, and to invite him to calm and hallowed inter- 
course with his Maker. 

And should not life's evening thus tranquillize 
and elevate his feelings? Private prayer, the de- 
light and duty of all who have been taught of God, 
is an employment peculiarly appropriate to the aged 
Christian. Compelled to relinquish the active occu- 
pations of former days, unable to read much even 
of the best of books, and frequently deprived, per- 
haps, of the long- valued ministrations of the sanc- 
tuary, how thankfully does he retain the inestimable 
privilege of pouring out his heart in secret before 
God, and in holding sweet converse with his heavenly 
Father! "I can very seldom talk or read now," 
said a venerable servant of God, whose days were 
almost numbered; "but," he added, as a happy smile 
lighted up his withered features, " I can pray. In 
my weakest moments, without opening my lips, I 
can make known my requests unto God, and praise 
him for his never-changing goodness towards me." 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 31 

Let the evening of your life be much devoted to 
prayer; for at the close, no less than at the com- 
mencement of your Christian experience, you are 
entirely dependent upon Almighty succour. Go 
therefore with boldness to the throne of grace, that 
you may still obtain mercy, and find grace to help 
you in every time of need.* Old age has its especial 
wants and trials ; but, "Ask, and it shall be given 
you,"f is the inscription which is ever written over 
the mercy-seat. Implore that strength which you 
require in order that you may cheerfully bear God's 
will now ; that support which you will need in the 
hour of death, when heart and flesh shall fail ; that 
consolation and guidance which you desire to have 
imparted to those whom you must leave behind in a 
world of grief and danger. He who is able to do 
exceeding abundantly above all that you can ask or 
think, will hear and answer your feeble but heart- 
felt petitions. 

The evening of life ! Have these words a melan- 
choly sound ? They tell, it is true, that the bright 
sunshine of youth and manhood is past; that the 
health and the energy which impelled our steps in 
the path of usefulness and renown have departed ; 
that the night of death will soon gather round us, 

* Heb. iv. 16. t Matt. vii. 7. 



32 HEARING HOME. 

when we must close our eves upon all that is loved 
and lovely here. 

But are these facts unwelcome to the Christian ? 
Nay, are they not rather the incentives of his hope 
and his joy? Long a stranger and a pilgrim upon 
earth, do they not assure him that he is now on the 
borders of that country which he has so earnestly 
been seeking ? The worldling may mourn over the 
flowers which have withered in his grasp, but the 
Christian has a treasure laid up in heaven, and his 
heart is there also. The orphan spirit may shrink 
from the prospect of an unknown eternity ; but the 
child of G-od cannot but rejoice in the thought of 
soon going home. 

The evening of life! Aged Christian, an ever- 
lasting morning will soon dawn upon your redeemed 
and perfected spirit. "Now is your salvation nearer 
than when you believed."* Mark with thankfulness 
the shadows of evening as they deepen around you, 
for they are the necessary precursors of the coming 
day. Calmly and trustingly as an infant that slum- 
bers on its mother's bosom, you will soon " sleep in 
Jesus," to awake in that purer and happier world, 
which has " no need of the sun, neither of the moon, 
to shine in it ; for the glory of God doth lighten it, 

* Rom. xiii. 11. 



THE REVIEW OF LIFE. 33 

and the Lamb is the light thereof."* " Absent from 
the body," you will at once be "present with the 
Lord;"f you will "behold his face in righteousness;" 
you will "be satisfied, when you awake, with his 
likeness."! 

* Rev. xxi. 23. f 2 Cor. v. 8. % Psa. xvii. 15. 

5 



\t fflir JMIts. 



ANONYMOUS. 



Ah ! don't be sorrowful, darling, 
And don't be sorrowful, pray ; 

Taking the year together, my dear, 
There isn't more night than day. 

'Tis rainy weather, my darling, 
Time's waves, they heavily run ; 

But taking the year together, my dear, 
There isn't more cloud than sun. 

We are old folks, now, my darling, 
Our heads are growing gray ; 

But taking the year all round, my dear, 
You will always find a May. 

We have had our May, my darling, 

And our roses long ago ; 
And the time of the year is coming 

For the silent night of snow. 

34 



THE OLD FOLKS. 35 

And G-od is God, my darling, 

Of night as well as day ; 
And we feel and know that we can go 

Wherever he leads the way. 

A Grod of the night, my darling, 

Of the night of death so grim; 
The gate that leads out of life, good wife, 

Is the gate that leads to Him. 



MARGARET JUNKIN. 

The calm, full day, so flushed with light, 
So draped in placid majesty, 
Has sunk beneath the mystic sea 

That shrouds the immortal from our sight. 

We revelled in its aflluent rays, 

We sunned us in its atmosphere ; 

We drank its beauty — breathed its cheer, 

And felt its bliss a thousand ways. 

What princely flowers filled its morn ! 

What rich results its noontide hours ! 

How nobly its unresting powers 
Have all the heat and burden borne ! 

'Tis well that kindly night should come 
With precious silence and release : 
So in our souls we whisper " peace" 

At such a tranquil sinking home. 

36 



NIGHTFALL. 3T 

But while we miss the golden bars 

That bounded in this day so bright, 
We look aloft — and lo ! the night 

That closes round us throbs with stars ! 



||a%r, m Ifturto. 

MISS A. L. WARING. 

Fathek, I know that all my life 

Is portioned out by thee, 
And the changes that will surely come 

I do not fear to see ; 
But I ask thee for a quiet mind, 

Intent on pleasing thee. 

I ask thee for a thankful love, 
Through constant watchings wise, 

To meet the glad with cheerful smile, 
And to wipe the weeping eyes ; 

And a heart at leisure from itself 
To soothe and sympathize. 

I would not have the restless will 

That wanders to and fro, 
Seeking for some great thing to do 

Or secret thing to know : 
I would be dealt with as a child, 

Led, guided where to go. 



38 



FATHER, I KNOW. 39 

Wherever in the world I am, 

In whatsoe'er estate, 
I have a fellowship with other hearts 

To keep and cultivate ; 
And a work of holy love to do 

For the Lord on whom I wait. 

I ask thee for the daily strength 

To none that ask denied, 
And a mind to blend with outward life 

While keeping at thy side — 
Content to fill a little space, 

So thou be glorified ! 

And if some things I do not ask 

In my cup of blessing be, 
I would have my spirit filled the more 

With gratitude to thee. 
More careful than to serve thee much, 

To serve thee perfectly. 

There are thorns besetting every path, 

That call for patient care ; 
There is a crook in every lot, 

And a need for earnest prayer ; 
But a lowly heart that leans on thee 

Is happy everywhere. 



40 NEARING HOME. 

In a service that thy love appoints 
There are no bonds for me ; 

For my secret heart is taught the truth 
That makes thy children free ; 

And a life of self-renouncing love 
Is a life of liberty. 



tor Wm life, 



HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 



'Tis not for man to trifle ! life is brief; 

And sin is here. 
Our age is but the falling of a leaf, 

A dropping tear. 
We have no time to sport away the hours ; 
All must be earnest in a world like ours. 

Not many lives, but only one have we — 

One, only one : 
How sacred should that one life ever be — 

That narrow span ! 
Day after day filled up with blessed toil — 
Hour after hour still bringing in new spoil. 

Our being is no shadow of thin air — 

No vacant dream — 
No fable of the things that never were, 

But only seem ; 
"lis full of meaning as of mystery, 
Though strange and solemn may that meaning be. 

6 41 



42 NEABING HOME. 

Our sorrows are no phantom of the night — 

JSTo idle tale ; 
No cloud that floats along a sky of light, 

On summer gale ; 
They are the true realities of earth ; 
Friends and companions even from our birth. 

life below — how brief, and poor, and sad ! 

One heavy sigh. 
life above — how long, how fair, and glad ! 

An endless joy. 
Oh, to be done with daily dying here ! 
Oh, to begin the living in yon sphere ! 

day of time, how dark ! sky and earth, 

How dull your hue ! 
day of Christ, how bright ! sky and earth, 

Made fair and new ! 
Come, better Eden, with thy fresher green ; 
Come, brighter Salem, gladden all the scene ! 



Itixozyttt 



MARTIN F. TUPPER. 



How many years are fled ! 

How many friends are dead ! 
Alas ! how fast 
The past hath passed ! 

How speedily life hath sped ! 

Places that knew me of yore 
Know me for theirs no more ; 
And sore at the change, 
Quite strange I range 
Where I was at home before. 

Thoughts and things, each day, 
Seem to be fading away ; 

Yet this is, I wot, 

Their lot to be not 
Continuing in one stay. 

A mingled mesh it seems 
Of facts and fancy's gleams ; 



43 



44 NEABING HOME. 

I scarce have power, 
From hour to hour, 
To separate things from dreams. 

Darkly, as in a glass, 
Like a vain shadow they pass ; 
Their ways they wend 
And tend to an end — 
The goal of life, alas ! 

Alas ! and wherefore so ? 

Be glad for this passing show ; 
The world and its lust 
Back must to their dust, 

Before the soul can grow. 

Expand, my willing mind, 
Thy nobler life to find ; 

Thy childhood leave ; 

Nor grieve to bereave 
Thine age of toys behind. 



ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 

The autumn of our life has actually arrived. The 
scenes of our youth have fled for ever ; and the feel- 
ings and hopes of that period have passed away also, 
or are greatly changed. When we take a retrospect 
of the past, several weighty reflections cannot but 
press upon our minds and sadden our hearts. How 
true do we now find that trite remark, that the long- 
est life in the retrospect appears exceedingly short, 
though in prospect the same period appeared almost 
interminable ! Old age has come upon us (though 
its approaches were very gradual) by surprise ; and 
even now, except when feeling something of the in- 
firmities of age, or when viewing our altered image in 
the mirror, we are prone to forget that we are old ; 
and often are impelled to undertake labours to which 
our strength is no longer competent. Truly our life of 
three- score, or more, appears like a dream when we 
awake from sleep. And as the past years have passed 

*From "Letters to the Aged," published by the Presbyterian Board 
of Publication. 

45 



46 NEABING HOME. 

so quickly, the few that remain will not be less rapid 
in their flight. Indeed, to the aged, except when they 
are suffering protracted pain, time appears shorter 
than it did when they were young. Thus at least it 
seems to the writer; the year, when its days and 
weeks and months are numbered, is as long as ever, 
but to our sense it seems to grow shorter. We are 
less absorbed and interested in passing scenes than 
the young. Life has with us become a sober reality. 
The enchanting visions of a youthful imagination have 
now entirely vanished. But it brings a solemn and 
tenderly melancholy feeling over the minds of the 
aged to inquire for the friends and companions of 
their youth. How few of these can we now find upon 
earth ! The ministers whose labours were made useful 
to us, and the very sound of whose voice was sweeter 
than the richest music, are now lying beneath the 
clods of the valley. The beloved friends with whom 
we were wont to take sweet counsel, and to whom we 
could confidingly open our whole hearts, have been 
torn from our side. Many dear relatives, loved it 
may be as our own life, have slept the sleep of death. 
Time may have healed the painful wounds made by 
such bereavements, but their loss often leaves a chasm 
which can never be supplied, and, at any rate, a scar 
which we shall carry to the grave. There is one re- 



REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE. 47 

flection connected with this subject still more sad ; it 
is, that some in whom we once delighted, and in whom 
we reposed strong confidence, have turned aside from 
the ways of truth and righteousness in which they 
appeared to be walking, and, though they may be still 
walking up and down upon the earth, are dead to us 
and to all those interests which once seemed to be 
common to them and us. And as to those who re- 
main steadfast, and have continued their pilgrimage 
without turning aside into crooked ways, what a sad 
change has time made upon their persons ! Where 
is the bloom of youth, the robust strength of man- 
hood, the eye sparkling with intelligence, and the 
countenance beaming with animation ? Alas ! they 
are fled ; and in their place we see the decrepid body, 
the sunken eye, the withered countenance, and the 
tottering gait. All are not equally changed by the 
ravages of time. Indeed, to some the access of gray 
hairs and old age brings an addition of comeliness. 
There is something peculiarly lovely, as well as vene- 
rable, in the silvery locks and placid countenance of 
a good old man. There is in his countenance a chas- 
tened expression of benignity and sobriety which long 
experience alone can produce. 

But the bitterest of all reflections to the aged is that 
of sins committed, duties omitted, time wasted, and 



48 NEABING HOME. 

opportunities of doing good neglected. Reflections of 
this kind, at certain times, become insufferably pain- 
ful. And although we could not wish to go a second 
time through such a pilgrimage, yet we cannot but 
wish often that with our present views, and with the 
aids of experience, we could enjoy again the oppor- 
tunities of usefulness which were suffered to pass 
without improvement. But even in these painful re- 
grets and this bitter repentance our deceitful hearts 
often impose upon us, and we give ourselves more 
credit for present good feelings than we deserve. For 
let us only ask ourselves, whether we now avail our- 
selves of all the advantages of our situation to do good. 
Are we not now guilty of as gross neglects as when 
younger ? The probability is, therefore — yea, the cer- 
tainty — that if left to ourselves as much as we were, 
we should do no better if we were permitted to live 
over our unprofitable lives a second time. 

But while we should lay aside all fruitless wishes, 
we ought certainly to reflect upon our sins and short- 
comings, until our godly sorrow is so enkindled 
within us as to work a repentance not to be repented 
of. We cannot atone for our sins by tears of peni- 
tence; for this we must have recourse to another 
fountain, even the blood of Christ, which cleanseth 
from all unrighteousness ; but the flow of ingenuous, 



REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE. 49 

godly sorrow has a tendency to soften and purify the 
heart, and our iniquities are rendered by this means 
odious ; so that while we are penetrated with un- 
feigned gratitude to Grod for pardoning mercy, we 
are rendered more watchful against our besetting 
sins, and made to walk more tenderly and circum- 
spectly, and more humbly too ; for I have thought, 
that the reason why a covenant-keeping God some- 
times permits his children to fall into shameful acts 
of transgression is because nothing else but such a 
sight of themselves as these falls exhibit would suf- 
ficiently humble their proud hearts. The recollection 
of such sins serves all their life long to convince 
them that they ought to place themselves among the 
"chief of sinners" and "the least of saints." And 
this view of our exceeding depravity of heart serves- 
to show us the faithfulness and loving-kindness of 
Grod in the strongest light. According to that which 
he speaks in Ezek. xvi. 62, 63, "And I will estab- 
lish my covenant with thee ; and thou shalt know 
that I am the Lord; that thou mayest remember, 
and be confounded, and never open thy mouth any 
more because of thy shame, when I am pacified 
toward thee for all that thou hast done, saith the 
Lord God." 
My aged friends, permit me to counsel you not to 

7 



50 NEARING HOME. 

give way to despondency and unprofitable repining 
at the course of past events. Trust in the Lord, and 
encourage your hearts to hope in his mercy and faith- 
fulness. Your afflictions may have been many and 
sore, and your present circumstances may be embar- 
rassing, and your prospects for the future gloomy. 
Providence may seem to have set you up as a mark 
for the arrows of adversity. Stroke upon stroke has 
been experienced. Billow after billow has gone over 
you, and almost overwhelmed you. Truly the time 
has come when you can say, "My joys are gone." 
But though friends have been snatched from you or 
have proved unfaithful ; though children, once your 
hope and joy, are numbered with the dead, or what is 
far worse, profligate or ungrateful; though your 
property has wasted away, or your riches suddenly 
taken wings and flown like the eagle to heaven; 
though bodily diseases and pain distress you, — still 
trust in the divine promise, " I will never leave thee, 
nor forsake thee." Though friends die, God for ever 
liveth. Though your earthly comforts and supports 
are gone, you are heir to an inheritance " incorrupt- 
ible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away." 
Take for your example the prophet Habakkuk, who 
triumphantly declares, "Although the iig tree shall 
not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; the 



REFLECTIONS ON OLD AGE. 51 

labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall 
yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the 
fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet I 
will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my 
salvation." Learn to live by faith : no class of peo- 
ple need the supports of faith and hope more than 
the aged. And not only believe, but act. " Work 
while it is called to-day." "To do good, and com- 
municate, forget not, for with such sacrifices God is 
well pleased." Your work is never ended while you 
are in the body. It is a sad mistake for aged persons 
to relinquish their usual pursuits and resign every- 
thing into the hands of their children. Many have 
dated their distressing melancholy from such a false 
step. The mind long accustomed to activity is mis- 
erable in a state of stagnation ; or rather, having lost 
its usual nutriment, it turns and preys upon itself. 
Lighten your burdens, but do not give up business, 
or study, or whatever you have been accustomed to 
pursue. Imbecility and dotage are also prevented, 
or postponed, or mitigated, by constant exercise of 
the mind. 

Keep also as much of your property, if you have 
any, in your own hand as is necessary for your own 
support, and make not yourselves dependent on the 
most affectionate and obedient children. They will 



52 NEABING HOME. 

be more affectionate and more respectful when you 
are not dependent. 

Dismiss corroding cares and anxieties about what 
you shall do to get a living. How strange it is that 
the nearer men come to the end of their journey, 
the greater concern they feel as to the means of 
future subsistence ! God's hand will provide. His 
command to us is, " Be careful for nothing ; but in 
every thing by prayer and supplication with thanks- 
giving let your requests be made known unto God." 

' 'And the peace of God, which passeth all under- 
standing, shall keep your hearts and minds through 
Christ Jesus." 



iljristiau %mtt% for t\t %$$** 



ANONYMOUS. 



Be patient — life is very brief, 

It passes quickly by ; 
And if it proves a troubled scene 

Beneath a stormy sky, 
It is but like the shaded night 
That brings a morn of radiance bright. 

Be hopeful — cheerful faith will bring 

A living joy to thee, 
And make thy life a hymn of praise, 

From doubt and murmur free ; 
Whilst like a sunbeam thou wilt bless, 
And bring to others happiness ! 

Be earnest — an immortal soul 

Should be a worker true ; 
Employ thy talents for thy Grod, 

And ever keep in view 
The judgment scene, the last great day, 
When heaven and earth will pass away. 



53 



54 NEAEING HOME. 

Be holy — let not sin's dark stain 

Thy spirit's whiteness dim — 
Keep close to Jesus 'mid the world, 

And trust alone in him ; 
So, midst thy business and thy rest, 
Thou shalt be comforted and blest. 

Be prayerful — ask, and thou shalt have 

Strength equal to thy day ; 
Prayer clasps the Hand that guides the world 

Oh, make it then thy stay ! 
Ask largely, and thy God will be 
A kindly Giver unto thee ! 

Be ready — many fall around, 

Our loved ones disappear ; 
We know not when our call may come, 

Nor should we wait in fear ; 
If ready \ we can calmly rest ; 
Living or dying, we are blest. 



||riirg*s. 

A. D. F. RANDOLPH. 



A bridge within my heart, 

Known as the " Bridge of Sighs," 

That stretches from life's sunny part 
To where its darkness lies. 

And when upon this bridge I stand, 

To watch the tides below, 
How spread the shadows on the land ! 

How dark the waters grow ! 

Then as they wind their way along 

To sorrow's bitter sea, 
How mournful is the spirit-song 

That upward floats to me, — 

A song that breathes of blessings dead, 

Of joys no longer known, 
And pleasures gone ; — their distant tread 

Now to an echo grown. 

55 



56 NEABING HOME. 

And hearing thus, beleaguering fears 
Soon shut the present out ; 

The good but in the past appears, 
The future full of doubt. 

Oh, often then doth deeper grow 
The night that round me lies ; 

I would that life had run its flow, 
Or never found its rise. 



II. 

A Bridge within my heart, 

Known as the Bridge of Faith ; 

It spans by a mysterious art 
The streams of life and death. 

And when upon this bridge I stand, 
To watch the tides below, 

How glorious looks the sunny land ! 
How clear the waters flow ! 

Then as they wind their way along, 

And to a distant sea, 
I listen to the angel- song 

That sweetly floats to me, — 



BRIDGES. 5T 

A song of blessings never sere, 

Of love beyond compare ; 
And life so vexed and troublous here, 

So calm and perfect there. 

And hearing thus, a peace divine 

Soon shuts each sorrow out, 
And all is hopeful and benign 

Where all was fear and doubt. 

Oh, ever then will brighter grow 

The light that round me lies ; 
I see from life's beclouded flow 

A crystal stream arise ! 



mu SOile. 



GREVILLE. 



A little while, and every fear 

That o'er the perfect day 
Flings shadows dark and drear, 

Shall pass like mist away ; 
The secret tear, the anxious sigh, 

Shall pass into a smile ; 
Time changes to eternity, — 

We only wait a little while. 

A little while, and every charm 

That steals away the heart, 
And earthly joys that warm 

And lure us from our part, 
Shall cease our heavenly views to dim ; 

The world shall not beguile 
Our ever-faithful thoughts from Him 

Who bade us wait a little while. 

A little while, and all around, 
The earth, and sea, and sky, 



58 



A LITTLE WHILE. 59 

The sunny light and sound 

Of nature's minstrelsy, 
Shall be as they had never been, 

And we, so weak and vile, 
Be creatures of a brighter scene, — 

We only wait a little while. 



He ifrttitltss mtt. 

JOHN M. LOWRIE, D. D. 

" Nothing but leaves ;" so the Saviour said, 

And then he blasted the fruitless tree ; 
And I ponder his curse with trembling dread, 

Lest just such a word he might speak of me : 
I have known his name from my early youth, 

And my outward homage his cause receives ; 
Yet his judgment upon my life in truth 

Might render the verdict, " Nothing but leaves." 

" Nothing but leaves," though the ground was choice; 

In the Lord's own garden the tree was set ; 
And loving parents by life and voice 

Gave cheerful care to nurture it ; yet, 
Though of rapid growth and comely form, 

No answering fruit their toil retrieves ; 
The blossoms fell off in the first spring storm, 

And autumn found on it " nothing but leaves." 

" Nothing but leaves ;" yet the church of God 
Wide open her doors every Sabbath threw ; 

60 



THE FRUITLESS TREE. 61 

And faithful preachers proclaimed aloud 
His fearful wrath and his mercy too ; 

And the showers of grace, as dew, came down, 
And the Spirit called who never deceives ; 

How many the blessings my life has known ! 
And still my returns are " nothing but leaves." 

" Xothing but leaves ;" yet I might have won 

More hearts than my own to taste his grace ; 
But the world's gay rounds my feet have run, 

Ever prone to the broad and downward ways ; 
Had I entered with zeal his harvest field, 

And now filled my arms with gathered sheaves, 
What happy reflections my life would yield ! 

How fearful the contrast, " Xothing but leaves!" 

" Xothing but leaves ;" though it has been so, 

Yet a remnant still of life remains ; 
Great Grod, thy renewing mercy show — 

I plead by the dying Saviour's pains ! 
May my zeal be warm, may my life be new, 

While every power of heart believes, 
And holy influences ever show, 

That I give no longer " nothing but leaves." 



Mttnotm. 



MARGARET JUNKIN. 



You say the years have sadder grown 
Beneath their weight of care and duty, 

That all the festive grace has flown, 

That wreathed and crowned their earlier beauty. 

You tell me Hope no more can daze 
Your vision with her bland delusions, 

Nor Fancy, versed in subtle ways, 
Seduce you to her gay ponclusions. 

The rapturous throb, the bound, the flush, 
That made all life one strong sensation, 

Grow quiet now, beneath the hush 
Of time's profounder revelation. 

You have it still — the inviolate past, 
So pure, so free from gloss and glitter : 

The wine runs limpid to the last — 
JSTo dregs to dash its beads with bitter. 

62 



AFTERNOON. 63 

Vixi : — thus looking back you write ; 

The best that life can give, you've tasted ; 
And drop by drop, translucent, bright, 

You've sipped and drained — not one is wasted. 

'Tis not in retrospect your eye 

Alone sees pathways pranked with flowers ; 
You knew the while the hours flew by, 

They were supremely blissful hours. 

The sun slopes slowly westering still, 
Behind you now your shadow lengthens; 

And in the vale beneath the hill 

The evening's growing purple strengthens. 

The morning mists that swam your eye 
Made large and luminous life's ideal : 

JNTow, cut against your clearer sky, 
You comprehend the true — the real. 

Time still has joys that do not pall, 
Love still has hours serene and tender : 

'Tis afternoon, dear, — that is all ! 

And this is afternoon's calm splendour. 

God grant your cloudless orb may run 

Long, golden cycles ere we sever ; 
Or, like the Northern midnight sun, 

Circle with light my heart for ever ! 



fllir Jyjt Jlntxdpaieir.* 

REV. REUBEN SMITH. 

You are now descending into the valley of declin- 
ing years. That valley, we are persuaded, need not 
be dark if you but carry into it the lamp of true 
wisdom. To meet it aright requires reflection and 
experience. There is what may properly be called, 
perhaps, the art of growing old. But where shall it 
be found ? or what are those precepts and appropriate 
considerations and practices by which we may sus- 
tain and comfort ourselves when found falling " into 
the sear and yellow leaf" of our earthly existence? 
To answer these questions is the design of the pres- 
ent undertaking. 

Cicero, the heathen philosopher, has written some- 
thing on this subject ; nor do we think that his beau- 
tiful thoughts, so far as they go, are to be despised or 
wholly neglected. According to him, the different 
sources of molestation in old age are these four : 1. 
Our necessary withdrawing from the more active 

* Tract No. 138, Presbyterian Board of Publication. 

fi4 



OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 65 

pursuits of life. But lie tells us there are other em- 
ployments more appropriate to this condition ; and 
these are specified and recommended. Then comes, 
2. The loss of our voluptuary enjoyments ; but these 
were never worthy of man, and their loss cannot be 
an annoyance when they are no more desired. 3. The 
failure of our mental faculties comes next, but this 
is not necessarily or universally true. Even memory 
need not essentially fail in old age, when it is culti- 
vated ; and he adduces many examples to show that 
it may still be strong. 4. But the most formidable 
of all the evils of old age is, in that it compels us to 
contemplate a near approaching death; and it is in- 
structive to observe here by what an unsatisfying- 
train of thoughts heathen philosophy attempts to 
meet this want. The argument of the aged Cato is 
essentially this: that death is not an evil to be 
dreaded, because it either ends our being, and then 
it is nothing ; or there is an immortality, and then it 
leads to eternal felicity. There is, he thinks, no third 
estate. For himself, he is inclined to believe in im- 
mortality, and then he solaces himself with the thought 
that he shall meet there the spirits of the illustrious 
and beloved dead, who, like him, will have escaped 
from this perturbed and transitory life ! " illustrious 
day!" he exclaims, "when this shall once be!" 



66 NEARING HOME. 

Now, we are free to admit that all this, or most of 
it, is true and very interesting, with one exception. 
There are thoughts and precepts here not unworthy 
of a reflecting old age. But we are sure you feel 
their defectiveness. The last argument, in particular, 
is not only defective, but in part false. There is a 
third estate. Yes, we may live beyond time and not 
be happy. And then the kind of solace he seeks 
there is inferior, and ought not to be confined to the 
few things here specified. We need on every ac- 
count a larger and securer instruction. In nothing, 
perhaps, does the superiority of the blessed gospel 
above the teachings of heathenism more strikingly 
appear than in what it teaches of future happiness 
and the true secret of a tranquil old age. The gospel 
brings life and immortality to light; the gospel does 
not vainly deny that old age is an evil in itself, but 
it admits its trials, and then provides appropriate 
alleviations. 

I. Would we learn to bear the ills of old age so as 
to be happy under them ? therefore, let us learn, first 
of all, to expect it, and submit to it when it comes as a 
providential event. We should learn, says the pro- 
verb, to be seasonably old, that we may be long old. 
By this it is not meant that we should antedate old 
age, or be too often dwelling upon it in our minds. 



OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 67 

But since we know it must come, and has its annoy- 
ances, and that all this is the order of Providence, it 
is best to admit the truth freely, and make the best 
provision for it that we can. The man who denies 
his age, or attempts to conceal its approach from him- 
self, acts unworthily both of his nature and condition. 
The consistent man rather faces his trials, anticipates 
them, and submits to them as they arise, because they 
are from G-od. And when he can say with John the 
Baptist, " He must increase, but I must decrease" and 
yet rejoice in the providence, the half of his difficulties 
are thereby removed. 

II. Here also we may properly look at and estimate 
the amount of these trials as they are usually seen to 
occur. Some trials of age are inevitable, and others 
may come whence they ought not. We shall undoubt- 
edly find some of our faculties and some of our enjoy- 
ments decreasing in that state. We may find ourselves 
pushed out of our places by those who are coming after 
us, and not always without a rough or thoughtless 
touch. The young do not in all cases honour gray 
hairs as they should. Some instances of vain and 
fanciful self-conceit will undoubtedly annoy us. The 
changes and wastings of things must constantly meet 
us — the thoughtlessness of the age aggravated to us 
by the too ready forgetting of what has gone before — 



68 NEABING HOME. 

jealousy of improvements because they are new, and 
grief for the loss of other things because they are old ; — 
all these are to be met perhaps in our own case, to- 
gether with poverty, darkness and neglect ; and then 
the inevitable necessity of being swept away at last 
by a " rude stream that must for ever hide us," — this 
is more or less to be expected, and it is no wonder if 
the anticipations of such things do at times shake our 
faith and gather clouds over our future experience. 

III. And yet it is comfortable to be able to believe 
that the anticipations of abandonment and extreme trials 
in old age are not often realized. On the contrary, 
except where vicious habits or peculiar circumstances 
have rendered escape impossible, the wants of age are 
remarkably provided for, and most persons are com- 
paratively happy in that condition. They have many 
sources of enjoyment (as we shall soon see), and they 
have learned better to appreciate them. They have 
surmounted their annoyances, and their estate is gen- 
erally tranquil, sometimes truly enviable. Their old 
age is peaceful, resigned, cheerful and deeply re- 
spected. "The apex of old age," says Cicero, "is 
authority ;" by which we suppose to be meant that 
respect and influence to which a virtuous old man 
usually attains. For the attainment of this state, 
however, means are undoubtedly to be used. The art 



OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 69 

is to be learned and practised. We proceed to say, 
therefore, 

IV. That an important means of rendering old age 
happy is to have a sufficiency of appropriate employment. 
Agriculture and gardening are particularly to be 
recommended. Let the old men plant trees, though 
they may never expect to eat the fruit of them ; let 
them cultivate a cheerful intercourse with children — 
let them bring forward and encourage all virtuous 
and enlightened progress — let them sympathize with, 
and, as far as possible, relieve the afflicted — let them 
sedulously cherish the confidence of the young and 
seek to do them good — let them furnish the world 
with the results of experience and observation — trans- 
mit facts and recollections — set a goodly example of 
patience, prayer and steadfastness, in attachment to 
all good institutions ; and if they have the proper 
furniture for it let them become authors. Old age, 
other things being suitable, seems the very time for 
authorship. We are told that Plato wrote at eighty- 
one years of age, and Isocrates at ninety-four. We 
might even recommend the study of languages, since 
every new language or science is an enlargement of 
mind, and a most absorbing employment. Cato is 
said to have learned Grreek in his old age, and Socrates 
to play on musical instruments. 



70 WEARING HOME. 

V. Again : we should cultivate most carefully those 
faculties which are most usually impaired in old age. 
Memory is one of these. The memory soonest fails 
undoubtedly ; but it need not be altogether so ; nor 
do we see why we should not remember all we desire 
to remember, as well in old age as at any other 
period. The reason why we do not probably is, that 
to many things we attach less importance than we did 
in earlier life. Seldom does any man forget his legal 
titles to property; the Christian never forgets the 
name of his Saviour. We should occupy our memo- 
ries, therefore, with things most worthy to be remem- 
bered ; and then much may be done by practising 
them. Sloth and neglect will ruin any faculty. " If 
the instrument be blunt, then must he put to the 
more strength. " 

VI. On the same principle, it is important to keep 
alive our hope and ambition in old age. The affections 
of the mind can in many things control bodily in- 
firmities, and among these affections there are none 
stronger than those of hope and ambition. " An old 
man can do something," says one ; " I will show it," 
cries another ; and " I shall succeed," says a third. 
And now by believing, feeling, and trying, success and 
great usefulness are finally attained; while on the 
other hand many no doubt have sunk prematurely, 



OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 71 

through mere discouragement or retiring too early 
from the activities of life. Cases are occurring to 
show that health and physical strength may be greatly 
extended by determined and appropriate efforts, and 
why should it not be so with mental activities ? Let 
us never give up hope. 

VII. Let us learn to avoid and resist as far as possible 
those tilings which may be called the besetting infirmities 
of this condition. These are jealousy of neglect, an 
undue valuation of old things, peevishness, neglect 
of personal appearance, moroseness, or discontent 
with our whole condition. These are natural tenden- 
cies undoubtedly, and great annoyances where they 
exist ; but much may be done by foreseeing and avoid- 
ing them. It was Dean Swift who wrote his resolu- 
tions as to what he would not do in old age. But the 
better recommendation is prayer, watchfulness, and a 
constant exercise of patience. 

VIII. Another rule is, to think as little as possible 
of our losses in old age, and more of the blessings which 
still remain. No doubt natural differences of dispo- 
sition will have influence here, and some cases are 
so providentially afflictive that human efforts can do 
little to modify them. But in general we believe 
that cheerfulness and entire contentment may be se- 
cured in the way now suggested ; and we have wit- 



72 NEARING HOME. 

nessed some cases of this that were truly edifying. 
" See," said an old lady of eighty- six to her pastor, 
"how well I can read without spectacles /" "Yes," said 
he, " and you have all these other comforts. Here 
are your convenient accommodations, your dutiful 
children, and, above all, your Bible with all its pre- 
cious promises." " I know it, I know it," said she, 
with rising animation ; "I am only afraid that I am 
not thankful enough." Now that individual would 
have been cheerful in almost any condition. The 
happiness we recommend is not of indifference, how- 
ever — not of a mere animal, but of a rational being, 
and therefore it is reflective. 

IX. We must not omit now those more direct exer- 
cises of prayer, and faith, and Christian meditation so 
necessary and so becoming the condition we are con- 
templating. The aged should have opportunities for 
these. They should have retirement and freedom 
from noise; and it is one of the greatest cruelties 
practised upon them that these opportunities are 
sometimes denied. But what more pleasant, what 
more appropriate and profitable, when they are en- 
joyed, than to 

"Walk thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
Of that vast ocean we must sail so soon ;" 

to spend much of our time in reading, meditation 



OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 73 

and prayer; to withdraw our affections more and 
more from the world, like old Barzillai ; to reflect 
much on (rod's dealings with us, like David in the 
71st Psalm, and to seek the welfare of Zion, and all 
around us, as we find ourselves descending to the 
tomb ! 

"The land of silence and of death awaits my next remove : 
Oh may these poor remains of breath teach the wide world thy love." 

X. But we come to the closing scene. "We must 
all come there at last ; and now the great question 
is — the only question worthy of much solicitude — how 
shall we best be prepared to meet anticipated death? 
Not, we answer, by the cold despisings of philoso- 
phy — not by mere natural resolution or vain 
speculation, as if death must either be nothing, or 
necessarily lead to eternal felicity. For, alas, we 
may live after death in a very different state! 
And no mere natural resources seem sufficient to 
face with calmness a responsibility like this. Nor 
yet is it a sufficient solace, in view of death, that 
we may say, We shall meet beyond death those 
with whom we held intercourse here on earth. No, 
we feel, we know that we want all this, and more. 
Now, the true Christian, and he alone, has this re- 
source. To him the blessed gospel "has brought 

life and immortality to light." He believes this. 
10 



74 NEABING HOME. 

He has long obeyed the gospel, and tasted some of 
its blessed consolations ; and now, in his old age, he 
lies down to die with infinitely more and better 
enjoyments than the wisest of heathens ever knew. 
He has all that Cicero wrote so pleasingly of; and 
then he goes much further. He knows he must die; 
he sees death near; and yet he does not shudder. 
He has heard his divine Redeemer say, "I am the 
resurrection and the life," and he responds, "I know 
that my Redeemer liveth." He is conscious, never 
more so than now, of his great sins and great de- 
ficiencies of obedience; but he knows also that he 
has a great and mighty Saviour, and "that the blood 
of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." He expects 
a glorious resurrection also ; and then as to the felici- 
ties that await him beyond the grave, he does not 
confine them to mere social intercourse, such as he 
possessed on earth, but expects these infinitely im- 
proved ; and then the superadded and almost incon- 
ceivable fruition of a present Grod, an openly-beheld 
Saviour, and the society of all holy and elevated 
beings — angels and men — in one unwearying activity 
around the throne of God for ever. Illustrious day 
indeed, when all this is to be entered upon and en- 
joyed! As to leaving the world, he does not regret 
it, for he has enjoyed what of good it could ever 



OLD AGE ANTICIPATED. 75 

afford, and finished his usefulness in it. Dear ob- 
jects of his affection are there still, but he leaves his 
blessing with them, and hopes besides to meet them 
all again " at the great rising day." And thus he 
dies, easily, tranquilly, and with glorious hopes. 

" Sure the last end of the good man is peace. 
Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground ; 
Nor weary, worn-out winds expire so soft." 



Surbhtj -ffhtimtss, 

REV. SAMUEL MEDLEY. 

Awake, my soul, in joyful lays, 
And sing thy great Redeemer's praise ; 
He justly claims a song from thee ; 
His loving-kindness, oh, how free ! 

He saw me ruined in the fall, 
Yet loved me notwithstanding all ; 
He saved me from my lost estate, 
His loving-kindness, oh, how great ! 

Though num'rous hosts of mighty foes, 
Though earth and hell my way oppose, 
He safely leads my soul along, 
His loving-kindness, oh, how strong ! 

When trouble, like a gloomy cloud, 
Has gathered thick, and thundered loud, 
He near my soul has always stood, 
His loving-kindness, oh, how good ! 

76 



LOVING-KINDNESS. 77 

Often I feel my sinful heart 
Prone from my Saviour to depart ; 
But, though I oft have him forgot, 
His loving-kindness changes not. 

Soon shall I pass the gloomy vale, 
Soon all my mortal powers must fail ; 
Oh, may my last expiring breath 
His loving-kindness sing in death. 



tto mtsxt ftags. 



HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 



A few more years shall roll, 

A few more seasons come, 
And we shall be with those that rest 

Asleep within the tomb. 
Then, my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that great day ; 
Oh wash me in thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away ! 

A few more suns shall set 

O'er these dark hills of time, 
And we shall be where suns are not — 

A far serener clime. 
Then, my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that blest day ; 
Oh wash me in thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away ! 

A few more storms shall beat 
On this wild, rocky shore, 



78 



A FEW MORE DAYS. 79 

And we shall be where tempests cease, 

And surges swell no more. 
Then, my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that calm day ; 
Oh wash me in thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 

A few more struggles here, 

A few more partings o'er, 
A few more toils, a few more tears, 

And we shall weep no more. 
Then, my Lord, prepare 

My soul for that blest day ; 
Oh wash me in thy precious blood, 

And take my sins away. 



REV. HENRY FRANCIS LYTE. 

Abide with me ! Fast falls the eventide, 
The darkness thickens ; Lord, with me abide : 
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, 
Help of the helpless, oh abide with me. 

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; 
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away : 
Change and decay in all around I see ; 
thou, who changest not, abide with me. 

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word, 
But as thou dwell'st with thy disciples, Lord — 
Familiar, condescending, patient, free ; 
Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me. 

Thou on my head in early youth did'st smile, 
And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, 
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left thee ; 
On to the close, Lord, abide with me. 

80 



ABIDE WITH ME. 81 

I need thy presence every passing hour ; 
What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power ? 
Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be ? 
Through cloud and sunshine, oh abide with me. 

I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless ; 

Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness : 

Where is death's sting ? where, grave, thy victory ? 

I triumph still if thou abide with me. 
11 



§;0ir is mg ffigfyt. * 

HENGSTENBERG. 

God is my Light! — Never, my soul, despair 

In hours of thy distress ! 
The sun withdraws, and earth is dark and drear ; 

My light will never cease, 
days of joy with splendour beaming ! 
Through nights of grief, its rays are gleaming ; 

God is my Light ! 

God is my Trust ! — My soul, be not afraid ! 

Thy Helper will abide : 
" I'll not forsake thee !" — he has kindly said, — 

He's ever at thy side ; 
In feeble age will yet stand by thee, 
JSTo real good will he deny thee ; — 

God is my Trust ! 

His is the power ! — He speaks, and it is done ; 
Commands, it standeth fast ; 

* Translated by Dr. Mills. 



GOD IS MY LIGHT. 83 

Ere hope of rescue is in me begun, 

Behold, the work is past ! 
When we our weakness most are feeling, 
God loves to prove, his strength revealing, 

His is the power. 

God is my shield ! — Of me he takes the care 

As none beside could do ; 
He guards my head, — he watches every hair, 

All dangers brings me through ; 
While thousands, to vain helpers calling, 
On right and left are near me falling, — 

He is my Shield ! 

God's my reward ! — Well pleased I onward go 

The path that he has shown : 
It has no trials but my God will know, 

When he awards my crown. 
I'll gladly strive, the fight sustaining, 
Until in death the victory gaining, — 

God's my Reward ! 



REV. ROBERT F. SAMPLE. 

" Call to remembrance the former days." — Heb. x. 32. 

I've travelled a long and weary way, 

Through many a valley dim ; 
I have wept in the morning gray, 
And sobbed my evening hymn ; 
But 'tis the way that leads me home, 
No more to weep, no more to roam; 

And like a Sabbath chime 

Along the by-gone time, 

The voice of Him who said, 

" 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 

Sore conflicts oft with sin I've known, 
And tempest-tossed have been ; 

My heart was rent with many a groan; 
Alas, the power of sin ! 

But strength was given and armour bright; 

I walked by faith, and not by sight ; 



84 



THE PILGRIM'S RETROSPECT. 85 

And like a Sabbath chime 
Along the by-gone time, 
The voice of Him who said, 
" 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 

The light of cherished hopes went out, 

And dark'ning storms came on ; 
In forests cold I roamed about, 
And refuge there was none ; 
But Jesus came to my relief, 
He hushed the wailings of my grief ; 

And like a Sabbath chime 

Along the by-gone time, 

The voice of Him who said, 

" 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 

Soon on my home dark shadows fell, 

My dearly-loved was dead ! 
Then sadly tolled the funeral bell, 
And blinding tears were shed ; 
But in the gloom arose a light, 
As Jesus passed within my sight ; 

And like a Sabbath chime 

Along the by-gone time, 

The voice of Him who said, 

" 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 



86 NEABING HOME. 

But mercies too have crowned my years, 
And many days were bright ; 

The lamps of heaven dispelled my fears, 
And bathed my path with light ; 

'Twas sweet to lean on Jesus' arm, 

To feel secure from real harm ; 
And like a Sabbath chime 
Along the by-gone time, 
The voice of Him who said, 
« 'Tis I ; be not afraid." 



Jgmpa% attir §*lffeljtwss. 



ANONYMOUS. 



Each season of life has its own peculiar tendencies 
and temptations. But selfishness is at all times and 
under all circumstances the common sin which doth 
so easily beset us. In early youth we are prone to 
imagine that everybody and everything about us 
ought in some way to minister to our gratification, 
and we therefore strive to employ them in the 
furtherance of the plans which we have arranged for 
our own happiness. In old age, when the infirmities 
of life compel us to withdraw from its activities and 
its pleasures, we are in danger of supposing that since 
we can derive but little enjoyment now from those 
sources which once yielded to us a rich supply, it is 
a matter of little importance to us whether others 
find any satisfaction in them or not. It often hap- 
pens that old age narrows the channel of our benevo- 
lence and our sympathy; we have less to receive, 
and we think we cannot have so much to give. Our 
thoughts, allowed to take their natural course, be- 
come concentrated on "self;" all that personally con- 

87 



88 NEABING HOME. 

cerns us is so magnified as very much to hide from 
our view the interests of our neighbours ; we look so 
steadily and so exclusively on our own good that we 
almost lose sight of the good of others. 

JNTow, will you guard against the influence of these 
selfish feelings? Will you bear in mind how op- 
posed, how thoroughly opposed, are selfishness and 
Christianity? Will you reflect upon the injury 
which you may do to religion by allowing an undue 
regard for self to be manifested in the little occur- 
rences of your everyday life ? A young man, who 
was urged by a pious friend to devote himself to the 
service of Grod, made this reply : " It is of no use to 
talk to me in this way ; I have seen too much of re- 
ligious people to desire to be like them. They pre- 
tend to be a great deal better than everybody else, 
but they are just the same underneath. Why, 

there's my uncle S , an old man with one foot 

already in the grave ; he calls himself a Christian, 
and yet he is as covetous and as selfish as possible. 
See him at home ; Ids comfort, his ease, his wishes, 
must be first consulted ; everybody must give way to 
him ; and he is constantly taking offence because he 
thinks he has not sufficient attention and respect 
paid to him. What's the use of religion ? it is all 
show — mere show." 



SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 89 

Tt was not difficult to answer such an objection as 
this, but it was difficult to remove the prejudice and 
the misconception which had gathered around that 
young man's mind. The selfish behaviour of his 
aged relative, in conjunction with that of others, had 
so set him against religion that he would not listen 
to its claims ; and, although moral and amiable in his 
conduct, he still remains estranged from God and 
from his people. It is true that the faults and in- 
consistencies of professed Christians will furnish no 
valid excuse for his refusal to love and serve his Grod 
and Saviour ; but ought they not to excite the deepest 
grief and shame in those who have thus thrown 
additional stumbling-blocks in the way of a sinner's 
return ? Ought we not earnestly to watch and pray 
that we do not bring reproach upon that holy name 
by which we are called, through our self-love and 
self-indulgence ? It is not so much by flagrant de- 
partures from the ways of godliness that we exert a 
baneful influence over the undecided and the uncon- 
verted, as by our apparently careless disregard of 
whatsoever things are lovely and of good report. 
The warm and generous-hearted spirit of youth will 
shrink with distaste, if not with disgust, from a 
religion which our actions have led him to ally with 

meanness and selfishness. Our prayers, our zeal, 
12 



90 NEABING HOME. 

our alms-giving, our profession, will have but little 
weight with him if they are associated day after day 
with the unhallowed and unamiable endeavour to 
secure our personal ease, in preference to the comfort 
of others; — he will regard them but as sounding 
brass or a tinkling cymbal. And will he not rightly 
regard them? "Though I have all faith and know- 
ledge; though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor; 
and though I give my body to be burned, and have 
not love — that love which seeketh not her own; 
which vaunteth not itself, but which suffereth long 
and is kind — it profiteth me nothing."* 

Let not, then, the infirmities of age be a plea for 
your lessened sympathy with others. Should the 
graces of the Christian decline with his fading 
strength? should the shadow of the tomb dim the 
light of his heaven-born love? Surely the nearer 
that he approaches to the pure and peaceful fellow- 
ship of the saints above, the more should his spirit 
be conformed to theirs. And is theirs a spirit of 
selfishness ? Are they absorbed in their own inter- 
ests, their own occupations, their own joys ? are they 
indifferent to the feelings and the pleasures of their 
bright companions? No; they joyfully and fully 
sympathize with each other ; self is forgotten there ; 

* 1 Cor. xiii. 



SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 91 

and if we hope, through a Saviour's merits, to reach 
the home where they dwell, let us endeavour to 
cherish corresponding emotions to theirs. Let us 
strive to follow them as they, when on earth, followed 
Christ. Ah, let us rather look at once at Jesus, our 
perfect model, our brightest example ; let us ask to 
have the mind that was in him, and to be imbued 
with his Spirit. For then we cannot live day after 
day — as some who profess and call themselves Chris- 
tians do live — cold and careless about the welfare of 
others, and at the same time intensely solicitous to 
promote our own. " Ye have not so learned Christ ; 
if so be that ye have heard him, and have been 
taught by him, as the truth is in Jesus."* His doc- 
trine which we have received into our hearts, and 
his example which we have chosen as the guide of 
our conduct, lead us to deny ourselves that we may 
benefit others, and to take the liveliest interest in all 
that relates to their happiness. 

And we are not to retrace our steps as years in- 
crease. We are not to be peevish, discontented, or 
unreasonable because we are old or getting old. 
This is certainly not our creed, and, God helping 
us, it shall never be our practice. As we advance in 
life we should be more considerate, more kind, more 

* Eph. iv. 20, 21. 



92 NEABING HOME. 

like Christ, not less so ; and if we abide in him, and 
his words abide in us, there can be no doubt that we 
shall thus grow in grace. The stream of Christian 
affection will become deeper, not shallower ; the flame 
of unselfish love will burn more brightly, instead of 
almost going out. 

Oh how delightful is the sight of an aged be- 
liever richly imbued with the loving and unselfish 
spirit of his Master ! How refreshing is it in this 
dreary world to rest a while beneath some venerable 
palm tree, which spreads out its cooling branches as 
if the only object of its existence were to bless the 
passer-by! How cheering is it, amidst the selfish 
and dissatisfied throng around us, to meet with those 
who can smile through their own tears upon the 
happy and the gifted ! 

An aged servant of the Lord had survived all her 
near relatives ; the last beloved object of her tender 
affections, of her constant recollection, was laid in 
the grave. Her life had been the scene of many 
sorrows, and there was but little sunshine to cheer 
the evening of her life. One day, as, lonely and 
blind, she sat by the fireside in her little parlour, a 
friend who called to see her found her — doing what? 
Murmuring over her desolate condition, and com- 
plaining that she was uncared-for and forgotten? 



SYMPATHY AND SELFISHNESS. 93 

No, but rejoicing in the happiness of others. A 
family whom she had known and loved in early life 
was to be gladdened on that day by the return of a 
long- absent member; and, through its dull and silent 
hours, her lips were often unclosed to express her 
delight at the thoughts of their meeting, her prayers 
that they might be blessed. " Were this my case," 
thought the listener, " I should have been repining 
that others had the comfort of tender relatives and 
loving friends, while I was left alone in the world, 
looking for none whose approach could console and 
gladden my solitary existence." The latter feeling is 
the emotion of the natural heart — the former of the 
Christian spirit. Reader, which would have been 
yours ? 



ANONYMOUS. 

" I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou 
shouldest keep them from the evil." — John xvii. 15. 

Pilgkim in the path of life, 
Fainting in the daily strife, 
Wishing, longing to be free 
From thy load of misery, 
Panting for the heavenly home, 
Where no blighting sorrows come : 
List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, 
Wait his time to set thee free. 

Mourner, bending o'er the dead, 
From whose cheek the bloom has fled, 
Grazing in the glassy eye, 
Vainly asking for reply, 
Wishing that thy days were done, 
And thou with thy beloved one : 
List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, 
Wait his time to set thee free. 

04 



THE SAVIOURS PRAYER. 95 

Aged wanderer, sad and lone, 
All thy youth's companions gone, 
Like blasted trunk, round which the vine 
Shall never more its tendrils twine, 
Like stranger on a foreign coast 
Weeping o'er his treasures lost : 
List thy Saviour's prayer for thee, 
Wait his time to set thee free. 

' ,l Not that thou should'st take away 
These thy creatures of a day, 
Pray I, Father, but that in 
Thy mercy thou would'st save from sin ; 
Keep them from the evil one, 
Till their course of life is run." 
This thy Saviour prayed for thee ; 
Patient wait till thou art free. 



\t Jtgtir U\ti%imvL. 



ANONYMOUS. 



The spring and summer time of life have long since 

pass'd away, 
And golden autumn, with its leaves of sadness and 

decay, 
Has come and gone ; and winter shrouds each lovely 

scene in gloom, 
And bids me mark across my path the shadows of 

the tomb. 

Mine eye is growing dim with age, my step is feeble 

now, 
And deeper lines of thought and care are graven on 

my brow ; 
But shall I murmur as I trace the rapid flight of 

hours, 
Or grasp with trembling eagerness earth's fair yet 

fading flowers ? 

Oh no ! a bright and happy home awaiteth me above, 
And my ardent spirit longs to dwell where all is joy 
and love. 



THE AGED CHRISTIAN. 97 

Does the wave-tossed mariner regret when he sees 

the haven near 
Where his shattered bark shall safely rest, nor storm 

nor danger fear ? 

Will the toil-worn labourer sigh because his weary 
task must close, 

And evening's peaceful shades afford him calm and 
sweet repose ? 

Or does the child with sorrow mark each swift re- 
volving mile 

Which bears him to his cherished home and loving 
father's smile ? 

And shall the Christian grieve because some gentle 

signs are given 
That he is nearer to the bliss, the perfect bliss of 

heaven ? 
That every moment closer brings that mansion fair 

and bright, 
Prepared for him with tender love in realms of pure 

delight? 

Oh ! with such brilliant hopes as these how can my 

heart repine, 
Although I feel my vigour fade, my wonted strength 

decline ? 

13 



98 NEABING HOME. 

Rather with gladness would I hail these messages of 

love, 
Which tell me I shall quickly join the white-robed 

throng above. 

My pilgrimage will soon be o'er, my arduous race be 

run, 
And the bright crown of victory triumphant faith 

have won ; 
No sorrow clouds the land of rest, hush'd is the thought 

of pain : 
Oh ! if for me to live is Christ, to die indeed is gain ! 



||e ^oict from ^alilcc. 

HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 

Of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace." — John i. 16* 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

Come unto me and rest ; 
Lay down, thou weary one, lay down 

Thy head upon my breast. 
I came to Jesus as I was, 

Weary, and worn, and sad ; 
I found in him a resting-place, 

And he has made me glad. 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

Behold, I freely give 
The living water, — thirsty one, 

Stoop down, and drink, and live. 
I came to Jesus and I drank 

Of that life-giving stream ; 
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived, 

And now I live in him. 

99 



100 NEABING HOME. 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

I am this dark world's light, 
Look unto me, thy morn shall rise, 

And all thy day be bright. 
I looked to Jesus and I found 

In him my star, my sun ; 
And in that light of life I'll walk 

Till travelling days are done. 



FROM THE GERMAN OF CLAUS HARMS. 

Know ye the land — on earth 'twere vainly sought — 
To which the heart in sorrows turns its thought ? 
Where no complaint is heard, — tears never flow, — 
The good are blest, — the weak with vigour glow ? 
Know ye it well ? 

For this, for this, 
All earthly wish or care, my friends, dismiss ! 

Know ye the way — the rugged path of thorns ? 
His lagging progress there the traveller mourns ; 
He faints, he sinks, — from dust he cries to G-od — • 
" Relieve me, Father, from the weary road I" 
Know ye it well ? 

It guides, it guides 
To that dear land where all we hope abides. 

Know ye that Friend ? — In him a man you see ; — 
Yet more than man, more than all men, is he : 

* Translated by Dr. Mills. 

101 



102 NEARING HOME. 

Himself before us trod the path of thorns ; 
To pilgrims now his heart with pity turns. 
Know ye him well ? 

His hand, his hand 
Will safely bring us to that Father-land. 



JAMES HAMILTON, D. D. 

"The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree." — Psa. xcii. 12. 

The Palm brings forth its best fruit in old age. 
The best dates are said to be gathered when it has 
reached a hundred years. So it is with eminent 
Christians : the older the better ; the older the more 
beautiful ; nay, the older the more useful ; and, differ- 
ent from worldlings, the older the happier. The 
best Christians are those who improve to the end, 
who grow in grace and in the knowledge of Jesus 
Christ to the very close of life. 

They loved him at first, but now they love him 
more. At first they were selfish, and only sought to 
escape from wrath ; now they are jealous of the 
Saviour's honour, and long to be saved from sin. 
At first they only thought of the Priest ; now they 
perceive the Priest upon a throne, and love not only 
the Saviour's cross, but the Saviour's yoke and the 
Saviour's laws. One Jesus is their King. And they 
grow in knowledge of themselves. The truth to 

103 



104 NEABING HOME. 

which they once assented becomes a deep- wrought 
experience. " In ine, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth 
no good thing." And the discovery of this de- 
pravity, the knowledge how debased and worthless 
their nature has become, instead of making them 
morose and bitter towards their fellow-sharers in the 
fall, makes them lenient and considerate. They 
know themselves too well to expect perfection in 
their friends, and find brethren to whom they can 
stick close in the face of obvious failings ; and even 
when they hear of awful wickedness, indignation is 
chastened by shame and self-consciousness. It is 
something of the old Reformer's feeling when he 
saw the malefactor led to prison : — " There, but for 
the grace of Grod, goes John Bradford." And they 
grow in wisdom. Long experience, and still more 
the secret of the Lord, dispassionate observation 
and heavenly-mindedness, have given them sagacity ; 
and sometimes in homely adages, sometimes in direct 
and sober counsel, they deal forth that mellow wis- 
dom. And they grow in spirituality. We have 
seen those aged pilgrims to whom earthly things at 
last grew insipid ; they had no curiosity for the news 
of the day, and little taste for fresh and entertaining 
books. They stuck to God's testimonies, and you 
never went in to see them but the ample Bible lay 



THE PALM. 105 

open on the table or the counterpane ; and they could 
tell the portion which had been that morning's food 
or the meditation of the previous night. The word 
of God dwelt in them so richly that you could see 
they were becoming fit to dwell with God ; for when 
a mind has become thoroughly scriptural it wants 
but another step to make it celestial. And the last 
harvest came, and the last gleanings of their precious 
words, and when next we went that way their place 
knew them no longer. They were flourishing in the 
courts of God's house on high, and we should sit 
under their shadow and be regaled by their goodness 
no more. But when we recollected how fair their 
Christian profession was, how beneficent and service- 
able they had ever been, and remembered that their 
last days were their brightest, and their last fruits 
their fairest, we said over to ourselves, " The right- 
eous shall flourish like the palm tree. Those that 
be planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in 
the courts of our God. They shall bring forth fruit 
in old age ; they shall be fat and flourishing ; to show 
that the Lord is upright ; he is my Rock, and there 
is no unrighteousness in him." 

Dear Christian reader, when your own ear cannot 
hear it, may this be your eulogy : when your own eye 
cannot read it, may this be your epitaph. In the 

14 



106 NEABING HOME. 

meanwhile, for the sake of that Saviour who is dis- 
honoured by proud and selfish and unlovely disci- 
ples, do you strive and pray for consistency. And 
for your own soul's sake, which is dulled by defective 
views, and depressed by each besetting sin, do you 
seek a serene and lofty faith — do you covet earnestly 
a blameless conversation. Let your triumphs over 
self, and your high-hearted zeal for the Saviour, let 
the largeness of your spirit and your heavenly ele- 
vation, let the exuberance of your goodness and the 
multitude of its special acts, let the fulness of your 
affections and the freshness of your feelings, and the 
abundance of your beneficence, make the Christian 
manifest and unmistakable. Let your happy piety 
be the far-eyed signal announcing an oasis in the 
desert, and pray that your church or congregation 
may become to weary pilgrims another Elim, where 
when they came they found "twelve wells of water, 
and threescore and ten palm trees." 



JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D. D. 

Psalm xliii. 4. 

Early my spirit turned 

From earthly things away, 
And agonized and yearned 

For the eternal clay ; 
Dimly I saw when but a boy, 
God, my exceeding joy. 

In days of fiercer flame, 

When passion urged me on, 

'Twas only bliss in name — 
The pleasure soon was gone. 

Compared with thee how all things cloy, 

Grod, my exceeding joy ! 

At length the moment came — 
Jesus made known his love ; 

High shot the kindling flame 
To glories all above, 

107 



108 NEAEING HOME. 

Now all the powers one theme employ- 
God, my exceeding joy. 

Shadows came on apace ; 

Tears were a pensive shower ; 
I cried for timely grace 

To save me from the hour ; 
Thou gavest peace, without alloy ; 
God, my exceeding joy. 

One trial yet awaits, 

Gigantic at the close ; 
All that my spirit hates 

May then my peace oppose ; 
But God shall this last foe destroy, — 
God, my exceeding joy. 



Ittmt in fyt fbtttir. 



HANNAH F. GOULD. 



Alone I walked the ocean strand, 
A pearly shell was in my hand ; 
I stooped, and wrote upon the sand 

My name — the year — the clay ; 
As onward from the spot I passed, 
One lingering look behind I cast — 
A wave came rolling high and fast, 

And washed my lines away. 

And so, methought, 'twill shortly be 
With every mark on earth from me ; 
A wave of dark oblivion's sea 

Will sweep across the place 
Where I have trod the sandy shore 
Of time, and been, to be no more ; 
Of me, my frame, the name I bore, 

To leave no track nor trace. 

And yet, with him who counts the sands, 
And holds the waters in his hands, 

109 



110 NEABING HOME. 

I know a lasting record stands 

Inscribed against my name, 
Of all this mortal part has wrought, 
Of all this thinking soul has thought, 
And from these fleeting moments caught 
For glory or for shame ! 



|till toill toe |ntsi 

WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH. 

Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and 
dreary, 
And the heart faint beneath his chastening rod ; 
Though rough and steep our pathway, worn and 
weary, 

Still will we trust in Grod ! 

Our eyes see dimly till by faith anointed, 

And our blind choosing brings us grief and pain ; 
Through Him alone who hath our way appointed 
We find our peace again. 

Choose for us, Grod ! — nor let our weak preferring 

Cheat our poor souls of good thou hast designed ; 
Choose for us, God ! — thy wisdom is unerring, 
And we are fools and blind. 

So from our sky the night shall furl her shadows, 

And day pour gladness through his golden gates ; 

Our rough path leads to flower-enamelled meadows, 

Where joy our coming waits. 

111 



112 NEABING HOME. 

Let us press on in patient self-denial, 

Accept the hardship, shrinking not from loss- 
Our guerdon lies beyond the hour of trial ; 
Our crown heyond the cross. 



inrspsri 0f %£%bm. 



ISAAC WATTS, D. D. 



There is a land of pure delight, 
Where saints immortal reign ; 

Infinite clay excludes the night, 
And pleasures banish pain. 

There everlasting spring abides, 
And never-withering flow'rs ; 

Death, like a narrow sea, divides 
This heavenly land from ours. 

Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood 
Stand dressed in living green ; 

So to the Jews old Caanan stood, 
While Jordan rolled between. 

But timorous mortals start and shrink 

To cross this narrow sea ; 
And linger, shivering on the brink, 

And fear to launch away. 

15 113 



114 NEABING HOME. 

Oh could we make our doubts remove — 
Those gloomy doubts that rise — 

And see the Caanan that we love 
With unbeclouded eyes ; 

Could we but climb where Moses stood, 

And view the landscape o'er, 
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, 

Should fright us from the shore. 



ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 

As an aged man, I would say to my fellow-pilgrims 
who are also in this advanced stage of the journey 
of life, endeavour to be USEFUL as long as you are 
continued upon earth. We are, it is true, subject to 
many peculiar infirmities, both of body and mind, to 
bear up under which requires much exertion, and no 
small share of divine assistance ; but still we have 
some advantages not possessed by the young. We 
have received important lessons from experience, 
which, if they have been rightly improved, are of 
inestimable value. The book of divine providence, 
which is in a great measure sealed to them, has been 
unfolded to us. We can look back and contemplate 
all the way along which the Lord has led us. We 
can now see the wise design of our Father in many 
events which, at the time, were dark and mysterious. 
The knowledge to be derived from studying the book 
of God's providence cannot be communicated to 

*Froin " Letters to the Aged," published by the Presbyterian Board 
of Publication, 

115 



116 NEABING HOME. 

another ; the lessons are like the name upon the white 
stone, which none can read but he that has it. The 
successive events of our lives we can make known, 
but the connection which these events have with our 
character, our sins, and our prayers can be fully 
understood only by ourselves. He who neglects to 
study the pages of this book deprives himself of one 
most important means of improvement; yet many 
professors of religion appear to pay little or no atten- 
tion to the providence of God in relation to them- 
selves. If they meet with some severe judgment or 
some great deliverance, their attention is arrested, 
and they acknowledge the hand of Grod in the dispen- 
sation ; but as to the succession of ordinary events, 
they seem to have no practical belief that they are 
ordered by divine providence, or have any important 
relation to their duty or interest. I would affection- 
ately entreat my aged brethren to make the dealings 
of Glod's providence towards themselves a subject of 
careful study. There is within our reach, except in 
the Bible, no source of instruction more important. 
And to aid you in this business permit me to recom- 
mend to your careful perusal two little volumes on 
Providence, which I have found useful and comfort- 
able to myself. The first is Flavel's "Mystery of 
Providence Opened;" and the other is Boston's 



COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 117 

"Crook in the Lot," These excellent treatises may 
be read over and over again with profit. Perhaps 
the best method of studying such books is, not to read 
the whole at once, or in a short time, but to peruse a 
few paragraphs at a time, and then reflect upon the 
subject, and make application of what we read to our 
own case. And while I am recommending works on 
this subject I ought not to omit mentioning Char- 
nock's treatise on " Providence." I confess I am not 
so familiar with this as the treatises before mentioned, 
but I have found his other writings, especially those 
on the Divine Attributes, so surpassing in excellence 
that I feel willing to recommend any thing which ever 
proceeded from his pen. 

I began this letter with an exhortation to endeav- 
our to be useful while you live. To comply with 
this you should, in the first place, guard vigilantly 
against those faults and foibles into which old people 
are apt to fall. We must be careful not to mistake 
moroseness for seriousness, austerity for gravity, or 
discontent with our condition for deadness to the 
world. 

Why should the aged be more peevish and morose 
than others ? If they are pious, there can be no good 
reason for it ; but it is not difficult to account for the 
fact. In the decline of life a gradual change takes 



118 NEABING HOME. 

place in our physical system by which the mind is 
considerably affected ; and often positive disease is 
added to this natural change. The nervous system 
is debilitated and shattered ; and in consequence the 
spirits are apt to sink or to become irregular. To 
these may be added the afflictions and disappoint- 
ments which most experience in the course of a long- 
life, by which the temper is apt to be soured. And 
when men, by reason of the decay of mind and body, 
become disqualified for the same active services which 
they were long accustomed to perform, and these fall 
into the hands of juniors, whom they knew when 
children, it is very natural to feel as if the world was 
turning round — as if every thing was going wrong. 
Old men have always been wont to laud the times, 
long past, when they were young, and to censure all 
the innovations which have come in since. Some- 
times, also, the aged experience a neglect from the 
young, and even a want of respect from their own 
children, which is exceedingly mortifying, and tends 
much to foster that acerbity of temper so frequently 
found in the aged. 

But although these and other similar things may 
be truly pleaded in extenuation of the fault under 
consideration, yet they do by no means amount to 
an apology which exculpates us from blame. And 



COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 119 

that old age is not necessarily accompanied by these 
unamiable traits of character is proved by many 
happy examples. Some aged persons exhibit an 
uniform cheerfulness and serenity of mind ; and the 
remarkable fact has been recorded in regard to a few 
that a naturally irritable temper has been softened 
and mellowed, instead of being exacerbated by old 
age. If I recollect rightly, this is mentioned as true 
in relation to the Rev. Dr. Rodgers of New York by 
his biographer, my respected colleague, the Rev. Dr. 
Miller. The late venerable Dr. Livingston, of the 
Dutch Reformed Church, President of their College 
and Seminary, was distinguished by uniform cheer- 
fulness to a very advanced age ; and his cordial and 
affectionate manners were remarked and felt by all 
who approached him. The Rev. John Newton, of 
London, seems to have possessed, with large mea- 
sures of divine grace, a very happy physical tem- 
perament. It is delightful to contemplate the old 
age of such a man. And while I am mentioning 
recorded examples of a temper in old age deserving 
of imitation, I would recall to the remembrance of 
my readers the case of the Rev. Dr. Thomas Scott, 
who, at a period of life when most men relinquish 
all severe labour, actually undertook to learn the 
Arabic language, that he might be able to give 



120 NEABING HOME. 

instruction to the missionaries going to the East. 
It has often been noticed that piety is apt to decline 
with the decline of manly vigour. If this be really 
a common event, it is exceedingly to be deplored. 
But perhaps it is more in appearance than reality. 
It requires much stronger faith and feelings of 
warmer piety to enable an old man to go forward in 
his course with zeal and alacrity than for a young 
man, who is buoyed up and borne along by the vigour 
of youthful passions, to do the same. But I rejoice 
to know that piety does not always even appear to 
grow cold by the descent into the vale of years. In 
some Christians it evidently goes on advancing ; and 
their growth in grace is much more rapid in this 
period of life than any other. As they approach 
nearer to heaven, their hearts and their conversation 
are more in heaven. Oh that it might be thus with us 
all ! As these letters are intended also for my aged 
friends of the female sex, I would recommend to 
their notice and imitation the old age of Mrs. Han- 
nah More. From her first appearance as a Christian 
she seems to have gone on advancing in evangelical 
knowledge and ardent piety until she was com- 
pletely superannuated. And even then she lost no- 
thing of the respect and affection which by her pious 
and benevolent labours she had gained; for still, 



COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 121 

when her memory was so impaired that she did not 
remember the books she had written, the elevation 
of her piety and the enlargement of her benevolence 
remained unimpaired. And it is truly a delightful 
thought that when in the wreck of mind the whole 
cargo of knowledge seems to be lost, and parents no 
longer recognize their own children, religion, where 
it was possessed, still remains. Jesus Cheist is 
nevee foegotten. Pious sentiments are never ob- 
literated. Cicero in his beautiful little treatise on 
Old Age, in which many judicious and pleasing sen- 
timents are expressed, when speaking of the decay of 
the memory, says that he never heard of a miser 
forgetting the place where he had buried his treasure. 
What the mind prizes most is longest retained in 
memory. It is often remarked, and justly, " How 
beautiful does unaffected piety appear in youth !" 
But it may as truly be said, " How amiable and vene- 
rable is exalted piety in old age !" 

It has been said that avarice is peculiarly the sin 
of age ; we often hear of an old, but scarcely ever of 
a young, miser. This may be true in regard to those 
who have cherished the love of the world all their 
lives. They will hug their treasures with a closer 
grasp, and their affections will be more concentrated 
on them when other objects are removed ; but this 

16 



122 NEABING HOME. 

vice does not originate in old age ; it is only the ma- 
ture fruit of the seed planted in early life; and though 
it becomes deeply radicated in old age, it is not now 
so much the desire of acquiring wealth as of holding- 
fast what they have got. The folly of the miser who 
hoards his money without a thought of using it is 
easily shown, and has often been ridiculed. But the 
truth is, that all ardent pursuit of worldly objects 
beyond what is necessary for the real wants of nature 
might be demonstrated to be equally absurd. But 
whatever men of the world may do, let not Christians 
dishonour their holy profession by an inordinate love 
of the world. Especially, let not the aged professor 
bring into doubt the sincerity of his religion by 
manifesting a covetous disposition. " Take heed," 
said the Great Teacher, "and beware of covetousness ; 
for a man's life consisteth not in the abundance of the 
things which he possesseth." Many begin the world 
with little, and the claims of an increasing family 
render it necessary to exercise much diligence and 
economy to make a living ; but thus it often happens 
that an avaricious disposition under the semblance 
of necessity, and even of duty, strikes its roots deep 
into the soul ere the man is aware of any danger. 
Indeed, it is almost impossible to convince a man of 
the sin of covetousness while he avoids open acts of 



COUNSELS TO THE AGED. 123 

injustice or fraud. Dear friends, it is time for many 
of you to give up the further pursuit of wealth, un- 
less your object is to acquire the means of doing good. 
But beware of the deceitfulness of the heart. Covet - 
ousness will allow you to promise such an appropriation 
of your gains. But put yourselves to the test by a sim- 
ple experiment. Ask yourselves whether you are now 
willing to make that use of the property which Grod 
has given you that his honour and the advancement 
of Christ's kingdom require. If you indeed find in 
yourself that disposition to consecrate all that you 
have to the glory of God, then it may be lawful to go 
on to acquire further means of usefulness. But 
whatever you now possess, or may hereafter acquire, 
of this world's goods, for your soul's sake set not 
your affections on these perishable things. Be not 
proud of your wealth. Neglect not while you live 
to do good and communicate. Remember that you 
are but the steward of the wealth which you possess, 
and therefore it is required of you to be faithful in 
the distribution of what is put into your hands. If 
you have tried the plan of parsimony lest you should 
lessen your estate, now try the plan of wise liberality, 
and see whether that saying of Christ is not verified 
by experience, that "It is more blessed to give than 
to receive." 



124 NEABING HOME. 

Whether in the former periods of our lives we 
have had prosperity or have passed through the deep 
waters of affliction, it is nearly certain that in our 
old age we shall feel the strokes of adversity. If our 
friends have been preserved in life thus far, yet we 
know they must all die. If hitherto we have enjoyed 
uninterrupted health, yet now we must expect to en- 
counter pain and disease. Old age itself may be 
called the common disease of our nature, which can 
only be escaped by death. Mr. Newton, in one of 
his last letters, says that he had but one disease, but 
that was incurable, which was old age. Then, my 
dear friends, let us set an example of patience and 
cheerful resignation under the afflictions which may 
be laid upon us. The passive virtues are more diffi- 
cult to be exercised than the active, and God is per- 
haps more honoured by quiet submission to his will 
under sufferings than by the greatest achievements 
of zeal and exertion. But let us never forget that 
we have not the least strength in ourselves. We are 
dependent on the grace of God for every good thought 
and desire. But if we trust in him we shall never 
be ashamed. 



Imvtt to %htt. 



MISS SARAH F. ADAMS. 



"As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after 
thee, God. 

"My soul thirsteth for G-od, for the living G-od : \rhen shall I come 
and appear before G-od?" — Psa. xlii. 1, 2. 

" Nearer, my Grod, to thee — 
Nearer to thee !" 
E'en though it be a cross 

That raiseth me ; 
Still all my song shall be, 
" Nearer, my God, to thee — 
Nearer to thee !" 

Though like a wanderer,* 

The sun go down — 
Darkness comes over me, 

My rest a stone ; 
Yet, in my dreams I'd be 
Nearer, my Grod, to thee — 

Nearer to thee ! 

* See G-en. xxviii. 10-22. 

125 



126 NEARING HOME. 

There let my way appear 
Steps unto heaven ; 
All that thou sendest me 



In 



mercy given 



Angels to beckon me 
Nearer, my God, to thee — 
Nearer to thee ! 

Then, with my waking thoughts 
Bright with thy praise, 

Out of my stony griefs 
Bethel I'll raise ; 

So by my woes to be 

Nearer, my God, to thee — 
Nearer to thee ! 

And when on joyful wing, 

Cleaving the sky, 
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, 

Upward I fly, 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to thee — 

Nearer to thee !" 



gig tyt&t is in mtnbtn. 

ANONYMOUS. 

" Here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come." — Heb, 

xiii. 14. 

My rest is in heaven, my rest is not here ; 
Then why should I tremble when trials are near? 
Be hushed, my sad spirit; the worst that can come 
But shortens thy journey, and hastens thee home. 

It is not for me to be seeking my bliss 
And building my hopes in a region like this ; 
I look for a city which hands have not piled — 
I pant for a country by sin undefiled. 

The thorn and the thistle around me may grow — 

I would not lie down e'en on roses below ; 

I ask not my portion, I seek not a rest, 

Till I find them for ever on Jesus' loved breast. 

Let trial and danger my progress oppose, 
They only make heaven more sweet at the close ; 
Come joy, or come sorrow, whate'er may befall ; 
A home with my God will make up for it all. 

127 



128 NE AILING HOME. 

With a scrip on my back, and a staff in my hand, 
I march on in haste through an enemy's land ; 
The road may be rough, but it cannot be long, 
So I'll smooth it with hope and cheer it with song. 



felje jfWton of mj moyt. 

WILLIAM COWPER. 

My Saviour, whom absent I love y 

Whom, not having seen, I adore r 
Whose name is exalted above 

All glory, dominion, and pow'r, — 
Dissolve thou those bands that detain 

My soul from her portion in thee ;; 
Ah ! strike off this adamant chain,. 

And make me eternally free. 

When that happy era begins, 

When clothed in thy glories I shine,. 
Nor grieve any more by my sins 

The bosom on which I recline, 
Oh then shall the veil be removed,, 

And round me thy brightness be poured ; 
I'll meet him, whom absent I loved — 

I'll see, whom unseen I adored. 

And then nevermore shall the fears, 
The trials, temptations and woes, 

17 129 



130 HEARING HOME. 

Which darken this valley of tears, 
Intrude on my blissful repose ; 

To Jesus, the crown of my hope, 
My soul is in haste to be gone ; 

Oh bear me, ye cherubim, up, 
And waft me away to his throne. 



\omt in llteto, 



REV. JOHN NEWTON. 



As when some weary trav'ller gains 
The height of some o'erlooking hill, 

His heart revives, if cross the plains 
He eyes his home, though distant still. 

While he surveys the much-lov'd spot, 
He slights the space that lies between ; 

His past fatigues are now forgot, 
Because his journey's end is seen. 

Thus when the Christian pilgrim views, 
By faith, his mansion in the skies, 

The sight his fainting strength renews 
And wings his speed to reach the prize. 

The thought of home his spirit cheers, 
No more he grieves for troubles past ; 

Nor any future trial fears, 
So he may safe arrive at last, 

131 



132 NEARINO HOME. 

'Tis there, he says, I am to dwell 
With Jesus, in the realms of day; 

Then I shall bid my cares farewell, 
And he will wipe my tears away. 

Jesus, on thee our hope depends, 
To lead us on to thine abode : 

Assur'd our home will make amends 
For all our toil while on the road. 



JAMES MONTGOMERY. 

Zechariah xiv. 7. 

At evening time let there be light : — 
Life's little day draws near its close ; 

Around me fall the shades of night, 
The night of death, the grave's repose; 
To crown my joys, to end my woes, 

At evening time let there be light. 

At evening time let there be light : — 
Stormy and dark hath been my day ; 

Yet rose the morn benignly bright, 

Dews, birds and flowers cheer'd all the way ; 
Oh for one sweet, one parting ray! 

At evening time let there be light. 

At evening time there shall be light : — 
For God hath said, "So let it be !" 

Fear, doubt, and anguish take their flight ; 
His glory now is risen on me ; 
Mine eyes shall his salvation see ; 

'Tis evening time, and there is light. 

133 



glttslmttir to Wife, 

ON ATTAINING A HALF CENTURY. 
JOHN M. LOWRIE, D. D, 

I remember, you remember, the days when first we 

met : 
Those cheerful, pleasant hours of youth we never can 

forget ; 
And this our happiness was then, our happiness is 

now, — 
No purer source of joy and peace is given man to 

know, — 
That far above all earthly thoughts we had a common 

Friend, 
A glorious Friend, around whose throne the hosts of 

heaven bend, 
Yet dwells on earth the meek to bless, the humble to 

renew ; 
We knew each other better then, because we knew 

him too. 

134 



HUSBAND TO WIFE. 135 

I remember, you remember, how then we loved to 

trace, 
With thankful hearts, yet now as then, the leadings 

of his grace; 
For what were we that wrath should stay our guilty 

souls to spare ? 
Or why should we in grace so rich obtain the mean- 
est share ? 
And now, we trust with firmer faith, we bow around 

his seat, 
As then to seek his guardian hand to guide our 

erring feet ; 
For still, as then, we walk by faith, observing his 

command, 
And fall or falter save as he still holds us by the hand. 

I remember, you remember, in days of gloom and grief, 
We've shared their pains when we could find in him 

alone relief; 
We knew they came at his command, we learned to 

bless him still, 
To bow before his sovereign hand, submissive to his 

will: 
And this upheld us many times when flesh and heart 

grew faint; — 
The cross and Calvary are still the strength of every 

saint — 



136 NEABING HOME. 

That he was called this path to tread, this bitter cup 

to drink ; 
Should we not taste the griefs from which our Saviour 

did not shrink ? 

I remember, you remember, how little then we thought 

Of anxious cares, dejecting fears, these later years 
have brought ; 

Though we had heard the world was cold — and 
thought we knew it too — 

Yet sad experience impressed the lessons all anew ; 

But when our busy memory would the varied past 
recall, 

With few regrets our thankful hearts would now re- 
view them all ; 

For ours has been a happy life, for every toil repaid, 

" An hundred fold e'en in this life" — the Master's 
lips have said. 

And we have learned, have fully learned, that all the 

toil and strife 
Of these our changing years were but the discipline 

of life; 
When friends that promised fair have changed to 

coldness and neglect, 
When flaming pious zeal has cooled and lost our 

warm respect, 



HUSBAND TO WIFE. 137 

When hopes of good in youthful hearts have van- 
ished as the dew — 

Such disappointments, ever met, yet still seemed 
ever new — 

When death removed our best-tried friends to dwell 
before his face, 

While we, alas ! were left to mourn with none to fill 
their place : 

Then have we learned, full well have learned — not 

only on one leaf, 
But written clear on every page in plain and bold 

relief — 
That though our souls have often felt discouraged by 

the way, 
When rolling seas have tossed, or naught but deserts 

round us lay, 
That still was ours a chosen way — the pathway of 

our Grod — 
That wisdom chose out every grief, and mercy every 

rod; 
And not one day, to cheer us still, did manna fail to 

fall ; 
And every hour of day and night the cloud was over 

all! 

18 



138 NEARING HOME. 

And we have learned, have partly learned, too much 
like them of old ! 

Forgive, Lord, our unbelief and murmurings un- 
told! 

The lessons which thy holy law from Sinai's summit 
gave, 

And later lessons of thy word of him who came to 
save; 

And not in vain — our life-long joy — and when our 
life is o'er, 

Our nobler song with nobler tongues through ages 
evermore ; 

The song of all the Church of God when gathered 
round his throne, 

Redeemed from sin, redeemed by blood of the Incar- 
nate Son. 



So have we learned, have humbly learned, whatever 

be our lot, 
That though deep darkness shrouds his ways, we 

comprehend them not, 
'Tis ours to walk as duty bids, to find each daily 

care, 
A joy which we may win, or else a cross that we must 

bear; 



HUSBAND TO WIFE. 139 

In either case his love may make the small or great 

impart 
A portion of his grace to bless and purify the 

heart ; 
And thus we grow in faith and love, in fitness too for 

heaven, 
By daily cares, all from above, just like the manna, 

given. 

And I believe, as you believe, that nothing has been 

lost 
Of all these lessons, oft impressed, at so severe a 

cost; 
We needed each chastising blow the Father's hand 

has laid, 
His strokes " according to our sins" his wrath has 

never made : 
And though it may be we have failed to gather all 

we might, 
To see the reasons of his love, to learn the way of 

right, 
Yet slowly, oft unconsciously, his providence has 

wrought 
To change our plans, our sympathies, our very modes 

of thought. 



140 NEARING HOME. 

For we believe, with joy believe, that every passing 

year, 
Has better fitted us for life and for life's duties 

here; 
For though we do not yet confess we pass down life's 

decline — 
Though failing health may seem to make the sun less 

clearly shine — 
Yet hearts as warm for Christ's dear cause within 

our breasts beat still, 
And minds as clear to read his word and study out 

his will ; 
And so the past has left its wealth that we may richer 

prove, 
To speak more wisely of his truth, more kindly of 

his love. 



And I believe, as you believe, that in these days by- 
past, 

The seed so freely scattered wide has not in vain 
been cast ; 

Some have we seen spring up and fade e'er summer's 
sun grew old, 

But some has also borne its fruit, full to the hundred 
fold: 



HUSBAND TO WIFE. 141 

And faith assures us that good seed, which fell we 

knew not where, 
Left to the smiles and rains of heaven, of Providence 

the care, 
Has brought forth fruit ; no man can tell how far, 

how long, may spread, 
Though planted by an infant's hand, the increase of 

one seed. 

And I believe, as you believe, this life must soon be 

gone ; 
Our battles soon be fought, our crown for ever lost or 

won. 
We hope that in that trial- day our ears may hear his 

word: 
"Well done, good servants, share the joy for ever of 

your Lord ;" 
Yet in that gladsome hour our lips shall thankfully 

confess, 
"Not unto us, Lord, but to thy mercy and thy 

grace :" 
But anxious fears and pains and sins and death 

itself shall cease, 
While with the ransomed by his blood we'll taste his 

perfect peace. 



a nn &gtfc Wttbdtaber,* 



WILLIAM S. PLUMER, D. D. 



Youe life thus far has passed rapidly away. You 
felt surprise when you heard others speak of you as 
old. Perhaps even now you easily forget that you 
are no longer young. " Gray hairs are here and 
there upon Ephraim, yet he knoweth it not." It 
seemed hard for Samson to forget the feats of former 
days. Even when shorn of his strength he attempted 
new exploits. There is a vanity in some old persons 
which leads them to ape the young. Let every one 
act as best becomes his age. Paul says : " When I 
was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a 
child, I thought as a child; but when I became a 
man, I put away childish things." It is a pitiable 
sight to see old and young trying to take each other's 
places. If you have passed middle life, admit the 
fact into your serious thoughts. 

The Bible requires reverence for the aged. "Thou 
shalt rise up before the hoary head." I approach 

* Tract No. 63, Presbyterian Board of Publication. 
142 



TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER. 143 

you with the greatest respect. " I have a message 
from God unto thee." I wish to deliver it meekly, 
honestly, and solemnly. I beg you to hear it. I 
will use neither many nor vain words. 

I hope you believe the great truths of the Bible. 
If you doubt any of them, I beseech you to give 
yourself to prayer and to the word of God itself, that 
you may know the truth and be persuaded of it. An 
honest desire to know the truth, shown by prayer 
and searching the Scriptures, God will bless. He 
can teach you as no other can. Cry mightily to him. 
Wisdom comes " from above." 

No doubt you have sometimes said, " Let me die 
the death of the righteous, and let my last end be 
like his." But do not your actions show that while 
you would die the death of the righteous you are not 
leading his life ? Remember, you have a soul. To 
save it is "the one thing needful." He who is poor, 
sick, and despised may save his soul, and so be happy 
for ever. He who is rich, strong, and full of all 
earthly good may lose his soul, and so be eternally 
undone. Because it is immortal the soul is of price- 
less value. Many have undervalued it. None ever 
thought it worth more than it is. God alone can 
know its full value. No man can pay a ransom for 
it, for its redemption is precious. To save it God 



144 NEABING HOME. 

gave his dear Son. To save it, Jesus wept, and bled, 
and died. To save it, the Holy Spirit calls you to 
repentance. 

If you are not a true Christian, your soul is now in 
a lost condition. So the Bible teaches: "The soul that 
sinneth, it shall die;" "Except ye repent, ye shall all 
likewise perish ;" " He that believeth not shall be 
damned;" "If our gospel be hid, it is hid to them 
that are lost." So righteous is God, and so holy is 
his law, that many an aged person has felt the power 
of a fiery condemnation in his conscience before he 
left this world. William the Conqueror, of England, 
was a great king, warrior, and statesman. In his 
last days he wept, he groaned, he confessed, but no 
comfort came. He said : " Laden with many and 
grievous sins, I tremble ; and being ready to be taken 
soon into the terrible examination of God, I am igno- 
rant what I should do. I can by no means number 
the evils I have done these sixty years, for which I 
am now constrained, without stay, to render an ac- 
count to the just Judge." Many a monarch has died 
in anguish of soul. Neither greatness nor obscurity 
can shield a guilty soul from the terrors of the Al- 
mighty. The aged, impenitent pauper has groaned 
away his dying breath in dismay on his bed of straw. 
Through life men often feel that they are not at peace 



TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER. 145 

with. God, and dying they confess it. Death is com- 
monly, though not always, an honest hour. Some 
hold out false signals even then, though not free from 
fears and terrors. At that trying moment, who would 
not prefer hope to fear, and peace to dismay ? Yet 
without a change of heart and a pardon of all our 
sins we cannot be saved. We " are by nature the 
children of wrath," so that " he that believeth not is 
condemned already." If you, my aged friend, have 
not fled to Christ, you are condemned, you are lost. 

But although your soul is lost, it is not lost beyond 
recovery. Blessed be God for that ! " There is mercy 
with God, that he maybe feared:" "With him is 
plenteous redemption :" "As I live, saith the Lord, I 
have no pleasure in the death of the wicked ; but that 
the wicked turn from his way and live ; turn ye, turn 
ye from your evil ways, for why will ye die ?" I take 
up the words and repeat the question, Why will you 
die ? Why will you not be saved ? Will you not be 
saved ? I trust you will. I pray you may. I know 
that by divine grace you can. The door of mercy is 
yet open, open to you. Though you have sinned long 
and much and grievously against God, yet he says : 
u To-day, if ye will hear his voice, harden not your 
hearts." For many years you thought it was time 
enough yet. Possibly this day your soul is taken in 

19 



146 NEARING HOME. 

some such snare. Stop and think, I pray you. Per- 
haps in an hour God may say: " Thy soul is required 
of thee." If he should, would you not be undone for 
ever ? You know that men commonly die as they 
live ; that a life of sin is the forerunner of endless 
misery; that dying regrets are a poor substitute for a 
life of holiness ; and that a death-bed repentance is 
little to be trusted. JNo wise man will leave to his 
last hours the proper work of life. 

But perhaps you think it is now too late to turn to 
God. Through hardness of heart you may not be in 
terrible despair. But the practical persuasion of your 
mind may be that God has no mercy for you, and 
that you have sinned too long to be forgiven. If so, 
let me plead with you to give up this delusion. No- 
where has God drawn up more terrible charges 
against sinners than in the first chapter of Isaiah, yet 
he concludes his address to these guilty men (and 
through them he speaks to you) thus : " Come, now, 
and let us reason together, saith the Lord ; though 
your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; 
though they be red like crimson, they shall be as 
wool." Could words better suit your case? and they 
are uttered in sincerity and truth. They are the 
words of God, He never mocks any of his creatures. 

We have in the Bible an account of the conversion 



TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER. 147 

of an old and very great sinner. Manasseh, the son 
of pious Hezekiah, was early instructed in the true 
religion. When he became king he restored idolatry, 
which was the highest kind of offence. He insulted 
God to his face by defiling the temple. He formed a 
league with Satan, and used enchantments and witch- 
craft, sins punishable with death by the fundamental 
law of his kingdom. He sacrificed his own children 
to devils. He was one of the worst of murderers. 
"He shed innocent blood very much, till he had filled 
Jerusalem from one end to another." He was obsti- 
nate and refractory under reproof. He made the nation 
follow his wicked practices. He seemed to be mad 
upon his idols and iniquities. His sin was aggra- 
vated by the example and instruction of his good 
father to the contrary, by his high station, by his 
malice and wantonness, by his stubbornness and by 
his long continuance in it. He ascended the throne 
at twelve years of age, and he lived to the age of 
sixty- seven. Yet when he was sixty-two years old — 
that is, when he had for fifty years together defiled 
his soul, corrupted his people, and insulted Grod by 
enormous crimes — he was brought to repentance, par- 
doned and saved. " Old or young sinners, great or 
small sinners, are not to be beaten off from Christ, 
but encouraged to repentance and faith; for who 



148 NEABINO HOME. 

knows but the bowels of mercy may yearn at last 
upon one that hath all along rejected it?" God has 
vast treasures of rich mercy in store even for old and 
hardened sinners who will "cease to do evil, and learn 
to do well." 

Even in our own day how many aged persons have 
been brought to repentance! Every old minister who 
has been very useful can tell of the wondrous dis- 
plays of the grace of God to such. Mr. H was 

a man of good family. He was well educated, but 
a proud scorner. He avoided the house, the worship, 
and the people of God. He was profane and mingled 
with such. He was often intoxicated with strong 
drink. Yet at the age of seventy-two God's Spirit 
arrested him and brought him to cry for mercy. He 
lived for more than two years after his change, and 
gave the best evidence he could in that time that he 
was indeed a new man. 

N. D went through nearly all the the war of 

American Independence with honour as a soldier, but 
not without injury to his morals. He was honest and 
truthful, but for more than fifty years of his life he 
seldom visited a church, and he was intemperate. 
God was not in all his thoughts till he was eighty- 
nine years old. Then he began with diligence and 
prayer to read the Scriptures. He went to the house 



TO AN AGED UNBELIEVER. 149 

of God. He sought private instruction also. After 
a season of great spiritual distress he was brought to 
settled peace of mind. I have heard his pastor say 
that he never saw a more lively Christian. He lived 
more than eighteen months after this change, and 
was eminently devout, humble and happy to the last. 
He learned to sing several hymns. Never shall I 
forget his appearance and voice as he sang, 

"Amazing grace ! how sweet the sound, 
That saved a wretch like me ! 
I once was lost, but now am found ; 
Was blind, but now I see." 

"That suits me, that suits me exactly!" he often said. 
My aged friend, do you seek further assurances 
that there is mercy even for you if you will turn to 
God? Here they are: "Ho, every one that thirsteth, 
come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money ; 
come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come, buy wine and milk 
without money and without price." "Whosoever will, 
let him take the water of life freely." " Him that 
cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out." " The 
bruised reed he will not break, the smoking flax he 
will not quench." "A broken and a contrite heart, 
God, thou wilt not despise." Say not, " It is too 
late." Call upon God in earnest prayer ; ask others 
to pray for you and with you. Confess your sins to 



150 NEABING HOME. 

God. If you have injured men, repair the injury as 
far as possible. " Seek the Lord, while he may be 
found." Come to Christ as you are, a poor, lost, 
helpless, guilty, polluted sinner, and he will save 
you, " He is able to save them to the uttermost 
that come unto God by him." But if you refuse 
another hour, it may be too late. This may be the 
last call you will ever have. Any moment you may 
drop into hell. Will you, will you, oh will } r ou be 
saved ? 



aiding but Wmbts, 



ANONYMOUS. 

Nothing but leaves : the Spirit grieves 

Over a wasted life — 
Sins committed while conscience slept ; 
Promises made, but never kept ; 

Hatred, battle, and strife — 
Nothing but leaves. 

Nothing but leaves : no garnered sheaves 
Of life's fair ripened grain ; 

Words, idle words, for earnest deeds. 

We sow our seed — lo ! tares and weeds : 
We reap with toil and pain 
Nothing but leaves. 

Nothing but leaves : memory weaves 

No veil to screen the past ; 
As we retrace our weary way, 
Counting each lost and misspent day, 
We find sadly at last, 



Nothing but leaves. 



151 



152 NEARINQ HOME. 

And shall we meet the Master so, 
Bearing our withered leaves ? 
The Saviour looks for perfect fruit : 
We stand before him, humbled, mute, 
Waiting the word he breathes — 
" Nothing but leaves." 



SW out ||*Ip. 

ISAAC WATTS, D.D. 

Psalm xc. 

Our God, our help in ages past, 
Our hope for years to come, 

Our shelter from the stormy blast, 
And our eternal home. 

Before the hills in order stood, 
Or earth received her frame, 

From everlasting thou art God, 
To endless years the same. 

Thy word commands our flesh to dust, 
" Return, ye sons of men ;" 

All nations rose from earth at first, 
And turn to earth again. 

A thousand ages in thy sight 
Are like an evening gone ; 

Short as the watch that ends the night 
Before the rising dawn. 

20 153 



154 NEABING HOME. 

Time, like an ever-rolling stream. 
Bears all its sons away ; 

They fly forgotten, as a dream 
Dies at the opening day. 

Our God, our help in ages past, 
Our hope for years to come, 

Be thou our guard while troubles last, 
And our eternal home. 



m ||tt0to t\&t m must mt. 

FROM THE GERMAN OF B. SCHMOLKE. 

My Gtod ! I know that I must die, 
My mortal life is passing hence ; 

On earth I neither hope nor try- 
To find a lasting residence. 

Then teach me, by thy heavenly grace, 

With joy and peace my death to face. 

My God ! I know not when I die, 
What is the moment, or the hour, 

How soon the clay may broken lie, 
How quickly pass away the flower ; 

Then may thy child prepared be 

Through time to meet eternity. 

My Grod ! I know not how I die, 
For death has many ways to come, 

In dark, mysterious agony, 
Or gently as a sleep to some. 

Just as thou wilt ! if but I be 

For ever blessed, Lord, with thee. 

155 



156 NEABING HOME. 

My God ! I know not where I die, 

Where is my grave, beneath what strand, 

Yet from its gloom I do rely 
To be delivered by thy hand. 

Content, I take what spot is mine, 

Since all the earth, my Lord, is thine. 

My gracious God ! when I must die, 
Oh bear my happy soul above, 

With Christ, my Lord, eternally 
To share thy glory and thy love ! 

Then comes it right and well to me, 

When, where, and how my death shall be. 



fLs {prist m%QQstB. 

RICHARD BAXTER. 

Lokd, it belongs not to my care 

Whether I die or live ; 
To love and serve thee is my share, 

And this thy grace must give. 
If life be long, I will be glad 

That I may long obey ; 
If short, yet why should I be sad 

To soar to endless day ? 

Christ leads me through no darker rooms 

Than he went through before ; 
He that unto God's kingdom comes 

Must enter by his door. 
Come, Lord, when grace has made me meet, 

Thy blessed face to see ; 
Eor if thy work on earth be sweet, 

What will thy glory be ? 

Then shall I end my sad complaints, 
And weary, sinful days, 

157 



158 NEAEING HOME. 

And join with the triumphant saints 
That sing Jehovah's praise. 

My knowledge of that life is small, 
The eye of faith is dim ; 

But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, 
And I shall be with him. 



Re mhsBth Ifupe- 

REV. AUGUSTUS M. TOPLADY. 

When languor and disease invade 
This trembling house of clay, 

Tis sweet to look beyond our cage, 
And long to fly away ; 

Sweet to look inward, and attend 

The whispers of his love ; 
Sweet to look upward to the place 

Where Jesus pleads above ; 

Sweet to look back, and see my name 
In life's fair book set down ; 

Sweet to look forward, and behold 
Eternal joys my own ; 

Sweet to reflect how grace divine 

My sins on Jesus laid ; 
Sweet to remember that his blood 

My debt of suffering paid ; 



159 



160 NEABING HOME. 

Sweet in his righteousness to stand, 
Which saves from second death ; 

Sweet to experience, day by day, 
His Spirit's quickening breath ; 

Sweet on his faithfulness to rest, 
Whose love can never end ; 

Sweet on his covenant of grace 
For all things to depend ; 

Sweet in the confidence of faith 

To trust his firm decrees ; 
Sweet to lie passive in his hands, 

And know no will but his ; 

Sweet to rejoice in lively hope 
That when my change shall come, 

Angels shall hover round my bed, 
And waft my spirit home. 

Soon too my slumbering dust shall hear 
The trumpet's quickening sound ; 

And by my Saviour's power rebuilt, 
At his right hand be found. 

Sweet, blessed hope ! There I at last 

Shall see him and adore ; 
Be with his likeness satisfied, 

And grieve and sin no more ; 



THE BLESSED HOPE. 161 

Shall see him wear that very flesh 

On which my guilt was lain ; 
His love intense, his merit fresh, 

As though but newly slain. 

If such the views which grace unfolds, 

Weak as it is below, 
What raptures must the Church above 

In Jesus' presence know ! 

If such the sweetness of the stream, 

What must the fountain be, 
Where saints and angels draw their bliss 

Immediately from thee ! 

Oh ! may the unction of these truths 

For ever with me stay ; 
Till from her sinful cage dismissed. 

My spirit flees away. 

21 



lietg mxtntft from t\t mtngz tsi %%t. 



JOHN GOSMAN. D. D. 



Every period of life — youth, manhood, and ag( 
has its peculiar characteristics. Advanced years we 
naturally associate with infirmity, and consider them 
as those in which we have no pleasure. It is the 
time of retreat from the business and turmoil of life, 
in which, from the sinking of the bodily powers, we 
seem hourly to advance to the closing scene. We 
are deprived of many sources of delight, and are 
thrown, so to speak, on our own resources. As the 
susceptibility to pleasure is abated, and the senses 
lose much of their acuteness, social intercourse in a 
great measure ceases to charm. The gifts of mind 
often follow the laws of decline ; the power of com- 
bining, the glow of fancy and the faculty of retention 
are impaired ; the mind wearies and becomes per- 
plexed. But in the case of the aged believer how 
changed the aspect ! The spiritual principle resists 
decay — "it abideth for ever." The powers with 
which grace has endowed the soul never experience 
the exhaustion of debility. This happy independ- 



162 



PIETY EXEMPT FROM THE DECAYS OF AGE. 163 

ence of the mind, its capacity for enjoyment, distinct 
and spiritual, is seen in the vigour of perception and 
glow of emotion attesting its divine origin. The 
knowledge of advanced years is comprehensive ; 
truths long familiar by contemplation become in- 
vested with new attractions. The glory of redemp- 
tion is seen more clearly ; the mind becomes assured 
of the certainty of the word of God ; and their influ- 
ence is continually advancing and diffusing its sacred 
power over the whole character. Like the tree, it 
seems to shoot deeper its roots. Like the lofty cedar 
of Lebanon, it stands unmoved by the tempests of 
earth. 

The great essential truths of the word of God, of 
the sinfulness of our nature, the necessity of divine 
and gracious influence to quicken, purify and invig- 
orate the soul are understood and felt to be true by 
the test most decisive — experience. Cut off from 
many sources of enjoyment, the aged believer finds 
an admirable substitute in the fellowship of the spirit 
with God. He can say, " Truly our fellowship is with 
the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ." He has 
the best society, and his sympathies are more elevated 
than those which connect with imperfection and 
change. After exploring the heavens and the earth 
for happiness, they seem to him a mighty void, a 



164 FEARING HOME. 

wilderness of shadows, where all will be empty and 
unsubstantial without G-od. The language of his 
heart is, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and 
there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee." 
He has inward self-enjoyment, for the good man is 
"satisfied from himself." There is an entrance now 
into the joys of the future; he enters now into peace 
— for what is spiritual life but the life of God in the 
soul of man ? What are peace and joy in believing 
but the tranquillity of heaven brought down to 
earth? It is not the attribute of elevated genius 
alone to soar above the skies ; borne on the wings of 
faith, the believer can adopt the language of Milton 
in a more exalted sense, — 

" Upled by thee, 
Into the heaven of heavens I have presumed, 
An earthly guest, and drawn empyrean air." 

The enjoyments of religion are peculiar. They 
depend not on the senses, which may lose their quick- 
ness, or on the animal passions, which may become 
languid and faint, or on anything which is merely 
outward. They spring from the recesses of the 
heart. The natural eye may fade, but the eye of the 
spirit is vivid. 

The review of the past, while it humbles the spirit, 
yet comes with rich and fragrant recollections of the 



PIETY EXEMPT FROM THE DECAYS OF AGE. 165 

goodness and faithfulness of God, which strengthen 
his confidence as to the future. An advanced be- 
liever happily expresses this trust : " I am only learn- 
ing as yet the alphabet of that supernatural science 
which teaches us to rest in him every day, and all 
the day, as the ' Lord our Strength.' " His mind oc- 
cupied with such grateful subjects of contemplation, 
his heart in repose on his covenant God, he is a 
stranger to the vacuity, the peevishness of caprice, 
and, above all, the dissatisfaction with themselves, 
which embitter the lives of those who, idolizing the 
world, find it an empty pageant. If such the joys 
of the believer while still imprisoned in his "house 
of clay," what raptures shall swell his enfranchised 
spirit when, dropping this decaying earthly taber- 
nacle, he shall ascend into the immediate presence 
of his God ! 



ANONYMOUS. 

No sickness there — 
No weary wasting of the frame away — 

No fearful shrinking from the midnight air, 
No dread of summer's bright and fervid ray. 

No hidden grief; 
No wild and cheerless vision of despair, — 

No vain petition for a swift relief — 
No tearful eyes, no broken hearts are there ! 

Care has no home ; 
In the bright realms of ceaseless prayer and song 

Its billows melt away, and break in foam, 
Far from the mansion of the spirit throng. 

The storm's black wing- 
Is never spread athwart celestial skies, — 

Its wailings blend not with the voice of spring, 
As some too tender flow'ret fades and dies. 

166 



HEAVEN. 167 

No night distils 
Its chilling dews upon the tender frame ; 

No morn is needed there, — the light which fills 
That land of glory from its Maker came. 

No parted friends 
O'er mournful recollections have to weep ; — 

No bed of death enduring love attends, 
To watch the coming of a pulseless sleep. 

No blasted flower 
Or withered bud celestial gardens know ; 

No scorching blast or fierce descending shower 

Scatters destruction like a ruthless foe. 

* 

No battle word 
Startles the sacred host with fear and dread : 

The song of peace creation's morning knew 
Is sung wherever angel minstrels tread. 

Let us depart, 
If home like this await the weary soul : 

Look up, then, stricken one, — thy wounded heart 
Shall bleed no more at sorrow's stern control. 

With Faith our guide, 
White-robed and innocent, to lead the way, 

Why fear to plunge in sorrow's rolling tide, 
And find the Ocean of Eternal Day ? 



*i$k at afbetttiire. 



ANONYMOUS. 



The chequer'd day of life is past, 
Its varied joys, its varied cares ; 

The clear blue sky is overcast, 
And night a solemn aspect wears ; 

thou whose smile makest all things bright, 

At evening time let there be light. 

Darkness has often marked our way, 
And sorrow on our souls has press'd ; 

But thou canst all our fears allay, 
And cheer the closing hours of rest ; 

Thy love is boundless as thy might : 

At evening time let there be light. 

Oh, shine within our hearts ; reveal 
Thyself in Christ, the God of love ; 

Nor let one earthly cloud conceal 
The glory of the land above ; 

Our faith increase — our hope excite : 

At evening time let there be light. 

168 



LIGHT AT EVENTIDE. 169 

Like radiant stars that chase the gloom, 

And guide the traveller to repose, 
So let thy promises illume 

The shadow which death's coming throws ; 
And ere our spirit takes her flight, 
At evening time let there be light. 

11 Let there be light." One word from thee 

Will every passing shade dispel ; 
Until thy face unveil' d we see, 

And in thy cloudless presence dwell. 
Soon shall our faith be changed to sight : 
In heaven there will be perfect light ! 

22 



jlrttst. 

MARTIN F. TUPPER. 

"My times are in thy hand." 

Yet will I trust ! in all my fears, 
Thy mercy, gracious Lord, appears, 
To guide me through this vale of tears, 

And be my strength. 

Thy mercy guides my ebb and flow 
Of health and joy, or pain and woe, 
To wean my heart from all below, 

To thee at length. 

Yes ! welcome pain which thou hast sent, 
Yes ! farewell blessing thou hast lent ; 
With thee alone I rest content, 

For thou art heaven. 

My trust reposes safe and still 
On the wise goodness of thy will, 
Grateful for earthly good or ill, 

Which thou hast given. 

170 



TRUST. 171 

blessed Friend ! blissful thought ! 
With happiest consolation fraught — 
Trust thee I may, I will, I ought — 

To doubt were sin. 



;« is iwi. 



ANONYMOUS. 



"All things work together for good to them that love Grod." 
Rom. viii. 28. 

Through the love of Grod our Saviour, 

All will be well. 
Free and changeless is his favour ; 

All, all is well. 
Precious is the blood that healed us, 
Perfect is the grace that sealed us, 
Strong the hand stretched forth to shield us, 

All must be well. 

Though we pass through tribulation, 

All will be well. 
Ours is such a full salvation, 

All, all is well. 
Happy, still in God confiding, 
Fruitful, if in Christ abiding, 
Holy, through the Spirit's guiding, 

All must be well. 

172 



ALL IS WELL. 173 

We expect a bright to-morrow ; 

All will be well. 
Faith can sing, through days of sorrow, 

"All, all is well." 
On our Father's love relying, 
Jesus every need supplying, 
Or in living, or in dying, 

All must be well ! 



j|0 % WiUzmozt 

REV. GARDINER SPRING PLUMLEY. 

Mes. M was an aged woman. For eighty-four 

years Grocl had spared her, though she was an im- 
penitent, hardened sinner. Pious parents from her 
birth had commended her in faith to Grod, and with 
their dying breath prayed that she might meet them 
in heaven. 

Early in life she had imbibed skeptical notions, 
which she loved to avow. She read her Bible to find 
difficulties and make objections. When personally 
addressed on the subject of religion, she would 
adroitly turn the conversation to disputed topics, 
and claim that she could not understand the doc- 
trines of grace. Thus she lived with no fear of God 
before her eyes, and with no interest in his written 
and preached word, except as it furnished her with 
materials for argument and cavilling. Her faculties 
were unimpaired by age, her mind clear ; and, but for 
her repugnance to religion, her society was agreeable. 

Two successive ministers of the congregation to 
which her family belonged declared her to be the 

174 



TO THE UTTERMOST. 175 

most hopeless individual for whom they laboured. 
They did not, however, neglect her. Often was her 
pastor found talking pointedly with her until she 
proposed an argument, when he would read an ap- 
propriate portion of Scripture, then pray with her, 
and go his way. He sometimes despaired of being 
at all useful to her, but was encouraged when he re- 
flected that her parents had been faithful, that God's 
people were praying for her conversion, that many 
texts of Scripture were in her memory, and that one 
of her household was daily setting her a godly ex- 
ample. 

One day, as usual, he called upon her. She seemed 
the same woman as ever — no penitence, no softness. 
She remarked, " I can't see anything wrong in what 
Christians call sin. I see evil in ugliness and the 
like ; but some very good people are always talking 
about their sins, I can't tell what they mean." The 
Scripture statements respecting the guilt of disobey- 
ing God were held up to view, and sin was described 
to her as " any want of conformity unto, or trans- 
gression of, the law of God." 

"Well, if there is such a thing as religion, I should 
not object to have it." 

" Do you doubt, then, that there is such a thing as 
religion ?" 



176 NEARING HOME. 

" I never saw anybody different after, from what 
they were before, they professed to be converted." 

" Indeed ! that is strange ; though much younger 
than you, I think I have seen many. Is not your 

son L a different person from what he once was? 

Does he not give evidence of a great change?" 

" I can't see that he does. He always was 
a good boy before he was pious, and he is a good 
son now." 

" Do you not feel that you yourself need to be 
changed in order to meet an infinitely holy God ?" 

" No, I don't know as I do. I never have done 
any sin." 

After a pause the pastor read a few verses of Scrip- 
ture, and committed her to God in prayer. 

Ten days afterwards he visited her again. But to 
his surprise he seemed to find a woman as different 

from Mrs. M as it is possible to conceive. It 

was Mrs. M as far as form was concerned, but 

with a subdued expression of countenance wonderful 
to behold. God's Holy Spirit had descended upon 
her, and was powerfully convincing her of sin, of 
righteousness, and of judgment. She was bathed in 
tears, and with sobbing and cries for mercy was beg- 
ging God to pardon "the chief of sinners." Her 
pastor sought to comfort her, but she refused his con- 



TO THE UTTERMOST. 177 

solations. " Oh, there is, there can be no mercy for 
me. Such a sinner, such a sinner !" 

" But I thought you didn't understand what sin 
is — that you had never sinned ? What have you been 
doing so bad of late ?" 

" Oh, do not talk so ; I have committed the greatest 
sin that any one can commit." 

" Why, what sin is that?" 

" Oh, it's rejecting Christ's mercy all these years^ 
Surely he will not save me now." 

Jesus was preached to her as " able to save them 
to the uttermost that come unto Glod by him." Heb. 
vii. 25. It was, however, many clays before she 
could rest upon Christ alone, and believe that he- 
would have anything to do with such a sinner. Prayer 
was daily made for her and with her. The old elder, 
her neighbor, whose visits and prayers were once un- 
welcome, was urged by her to come as often as he 
could, and all other Christian friends were entreated 
to pray. 

? The worst is," said she, " I have been sinning on 
and on, and opposing everything good so long ; and 
now I am shut up in this corner, where I can do 
nothing but come to Christ ; and can it he possible 
that he will receive me when I can do nothing else f 

" Yes, he has promised to save to the uttermost. 



178 HEARING HOME. 

He ever liveth, he will be your Saviour eternally. 
He is willing to begin to be your Jesus now. Though 
aged, you are blessed with clear reason. You can 
hear and understand his message : ' Believe on the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' " Acts 
xvi. 31. 

At last light broke in upon her soul. She saw the 
compassion of Jesus. She received him into her 
heart, and found all his promises true. Then her 
prayers were mingled with praises. She called upon 
all about her to sing the praises of her Saviour. In 
the night she would awake and request this, and on 
more than one occasion succeeded in having her 
friends sing " songs in the night." Old hymns long 
forgotten came back to her memory, and must be 
searched up and sung. The burden of those she 
loved most was the power of Christ to cleanse and 
save the vilest sinners. Jesus had discovered to her 
her sinfulness; Jesus had made her whole. The 
language of her heart was, 

" A guilty, weak, and helpless worm, 
On thy kind arms I fall : 
Be thou my strength and righteousness, 
My Jesus and my all. ' ' 

Here are important lessons. 

1. There is hope even for those whose case seems most 



TO THE UTTERMOST. 179 

hopeless. Never despair of such. Use all the means 
of grace for them. Do not argue with them. Read 
or repeat to them God's word, converse with them 
tenderly, and pray for them earnestly. Every true 
prayer will be answered, and every portion of truth 
become at last effectual. 

2. Let parents train their children for Christ, and in 
faith commit them to his care. Teach them his word, 
set before them a godly example, and if you are 
taken from them, trust in God to make them his own. 
" I believe," said a dying Christian mother, " that all 
my children will be converted." And the event was 
in accordance with her faith. 

3. Do not delay accepting Jesus as your Saviour. By 
so doing you rob God of that service which it is your 
privilege to render him now, and heap up sorrows 
for the future. Oh may you never know the pangs 
of remorse that follow a life of sin ! If you are now 
convinced of your duty, and fail to do it, God may 
leave you to your chosen course, to sink into eternal 
death. 

4. The greatest sin is rejection of Christ 1 s love. Such 
is the testimony of a conscience enlightened by the 
Holy Spirit. Ah, sinner, beware ! Are you slight- 
ing the infinite love of Jesus ? Remember it was to 
bless you that he died ; to make you for ever happy 



180 NEABING HOME. 

he bowed his head in unutterable anguish. And his 
power is as mighty as his love. If you believe on 
him, he can, he will save you. He is able to save 

THEM TO THE UTTERMOST THAT COME UNTO GOD BY 
HIM. 



I |ittle spa*. 

HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 

Beyond the smiling and the weeping 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest and home ! 

Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come ! 

Beyond the blooming and the fading 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the shining and the shading, 
Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come ! 

Beyond the rising and the setting 
I shall be soon ; 

181 



182 NEARING HOME. 

Beyond the calming and the fretting, 
Beyond remembering and forgetting, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come ! 

Beyond the parting and the meeting 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the farewell and the greeting, 
Beyond the pulse's fever beating, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come ! 

Beyond the frost- chain and the fever 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the rock-waste and the river, 
Beyond the ever and the never, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home, 

Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come! 



ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 

I have no doubt that you have remarked with 
surprise that the impression of the reality and im- 
portance of eternal things is not increased by the 
nearness of your approach to the end of your course. 
Time glides insensibly away, and it is with us in this 
respect as in relation to the globe on which we re- 
side. While other things appear to be in motion, 
our feeling is that we are stationary. The mere cir- 
cumstance of being old seems to affect no one with a 
more lively concern about the salvation of the soul. 
JSTone appear to be more blind and stupid in regard 
to religious matters than many who are tottering on 
the brink of the grave. This, indeed, is so com- 
monly the fact with those who have grown old with- 
out religion that very little hope is entertained of 
the conversion of the aged who have from their 
youth enjoyed the means of grace. And it is also a 
fact that real Christians are not rendered more deeply 

*From "Letters to the Aged," published by the Presbj'terian Board 
of Publication. 

183 



184 NEABING HOME. 

sensible of the awful importance of eternal things 
by becoming old and infirm. The truth is, that no- 
thing but an increase of faith by the operation of the 
Holy Spirit will be effectual to prepare us for that 
change which we know is rapidly approaching. Coun- 
sels and exhortations, however, are not to be ne- 
glected, as God is pleased to work by means. I 
have, therefore, undertaken to address to you such 
considerations as occur to me. 

Having already spoken of the infirmities and sins 
which are apt to cleave to us in advanced years, I 
propose in this letter to inquire what are the peculiar 
duties incumbent on the aged. What would the Lord 
have us to do ? Undoubtedly we are not privileged 
to fold our hands and sit down in idleness, as if our 
work was ended. Indeed, it would be no privilege 
to be exempt from all occupation. Such a life to the 
aged or the young must be a life of misery ; for man 
never was made to be idle, and his happiness is in- 
timately connected with activity. We may be no 
longer qualified for those labours which require much 
bodily strength ; we may indeed be so debilitated or 
crippled by disease that we can scarcely move our 
crazy frame, and some among us may be vexed with 
excruciating pain ; yet still we have a work to per- 
form for Grod and for our generation. 



PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED. 185 

If we cannot use our hands and feet so as to be 
useful in the labours which we were wont to perform, 
yet we may employ our tongues to speak the praises 
of our God and Saviour. We may drop a word of 
counsel to those around us ; and especially the aged 
owe a duty to the young, to whom they may have 
access and who are related to them. Every aged 
Christian must have acquired much knowledge from 
experience, which he should be ready to communicate 
as far as it is practicable. Why is it, my dear friends, 
that we suffer so many opportunities of usefulness to 
pass without improvement ? Why are we so often 
silent when the suggestions of our own conscience 
urge us to speak something for God ? How is it that 
we consume hours in unprofitable talk, and seldom 
attempt to say anything which can profit the hearers? 
We may plead inability — we may excuse ourselves 
because we are unlearned and not able to speak elo- 
quently and correctly — but let us be honest ; is not 
the true reason because our own hearts are so little 
affected with these things? We cannot consent to 
play the hypocrite by uttering sentiments which we 
do not feel ; and we have often been disgusted with 
the attempts of others, who in a cold and constrained 
manner have introduced religious conversation. It 
is easy to see where the fault lies ; it is in the state 

24 



186 NEARING HOME. 

of our own hearts. Let us never rest, then, until we 
find ourselves in a better state of mind. Let us get 
our hearts habitually under the influence of divine 
things, and then conversation on this subject will be 
as easy as on any other. " Out of the abundance of 
the heart the mouth speaketh." There are companies 
and occasions when to obtrude remarks on religion 
would be unseasonable and imprudent, for we must 
not cast our pearls before swine ; but in most cases 
an aged person may give utterance to seasonable and 
solemn truths without offence ; and very often a word 
spoken in season has been the means of saving a 
soul ; and the advice and exhortation of parents and 
pious friends are remembered and prove salutary 
after their heads are laid low under the clods of the 
valley. 

I have often heard aged persons, incapable any 
longer of active service, express surprise that their 
unprofitable lives were so long protracted, while the 
young and laborious servants of Grod were cut off in 
the midst of their years. The dispensations of God 
are indeed inscrutable — "his ways are past finding 
out" — and we are too little acquainted with his coun- 
sels to sit in judgment on them. But I would say 
to those who think that they can be of no further use 
in the world, that they do not form a just estimate of 



PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED. 187 

the nature of the service which Grod requires, and by 
which he is glorified by his creatures upon earth. 
All true obedience originates in the heart, and con- 
sists essentially of the affections of the heart : exter- 
nal duties are to be performed, but are only holy as 
connected with holy motives. The aged man may 
serve Grod therefore as sincerely and fervently as any 
others, if only the heart be right in the sight of God. 
He can glorify Grod in his spirit by thinking affec- 
tionately of his glorious name, by contemplating his 
divine attributes, and by exercising love and grati- 
tude towards him. His devotion might thus approach 
more nearly to our conceptions of the services and 
exercises of the saints in heaven. 

It may be that the lives of some are lengthened 
out that they may offer up many prayers for the 
Church and for the world ; for after all the activity 
and bustle and zeal apparent, there is no service 
which can be performed by mortals so effectual as 
prayer. Here there is a work to which the aged 
may be devoted. While Joshua and the men of war 
contend with the Amalekites in the battle, Moses 
assists by lifting up his hands in prayer ; and when 
he is, through fatigue, no longer able to hold them 
up, he is assisted by Aaron on one side and Hur on 
the other. If you cannot preach, you can by prayer 



188 NEABING HOME. 

hold up the hands of those who do. You can follow 
the missionary who leaves all to go and labour in 
heathen lands with your daily and fervent prayers. 
It is not in vain for you to live while you have access 
to a throne of grace. Before the advent of Christ 
there were some aged persons who seem to have been 
preserved in life that they might pray for this event, 
and that they might enjoy the pleasure of seeing the 
answer of their prayers, and embracing him in their 
arms whom they had so often embraced by faith. 
While all around was spiritual death and desolation, 
and corruption and error had infected all classes, 
from the priesthood downward, there was a little 
band who had taken up their residence in the temple, 
or often frequented this holy place, who were waiting 
for the Consolation of Israel. Two of these were 
Simeon and Anna ; but there were others of the same 
character ; for we read that this very aged and pious 
widow, who departed not from the temple, but served 
God with fasting and prayers, night and day, " spake 
of Christ, after she had seen him, to all them who 
looked for redemption in Israel." The darker the 
the times the more closely do the truly pious adhere 
to each other. This little knot of praying people 
knew each other, and no doubt spake often one to 
another ; and in this case the Lord hearkened and 



PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED. 189 

heard; for the object of their desires and prayers 
was given to them. Was the life of Anna an un- 
profitable life, although she never left the temple, 
and did nothing but fast and pray ? Was Simeon a 
useless member of the Church because he was proba- 
bly too old for labour? The truth was — and the same 
is often verified — that the true Church of God was at 
this time confined to a few pious souls ; while the 
priests and the scribes and the rulers had neither 
part nor lot in the matter. As God preserved Simeon, 
according to a promise made to him, until he saw the 
Lord's Christ, so he may be lengthening out the lives 
of some of you, my aged brethren, until you may 
have the opportunity of seeing the salvation of Israel 
come out of Zion. Do you not wish to be witnesses 
of the rise and glory of the Church ? Pray, then, in- 
cessantly for the peace and prosperity of Jerusalem. 
Consider it as your chief business to pray that the 
kingdom of God may come. What though the signs 
of the times be discouraging ; what though you live 
in troublous times ; what though the Church may 
be shaken, and the prospects of her increase be dark, 
yet remember that she is founded on a Rock, and the 
gates of hell cannot prevail against her. The vessel 
which carries Christ, though it be buffeted by storms, 
is in no danger of being wrecked. But to govern 



190 NEABING HOME. 

and direct does not belong to you ; your duty is to 
pray — to pray without ceasing — to wrestle with the 
Angel of the Covenant, and not to let him go until he 
bless you. Give him no rest until he establish and 
make Jerusalem a praise in all the earth. You can- 
not offend by importunity, but by this you will be 
sure to prevail ; for " will not God hear his own elect 
who cry day and night unto him?" Therefore never 
hold your peace, but as long as you live intercede 
with him to fulfil his gracious promises, and to cause 
the earth to be filled with the knowledge of himself 
as the waters cover the sea, when his people shall be 
all righteous, and there shall be no need any longer 
for any one to say to his neighbour, Know the Lord, 
for all shall know him from the least to the greatest. 
Thanksgiving is also a duty peculiarly incumbent 
on the aged. In the providence of God you are 
spared, while most of your coevals have been cut 
off in the midst of their career. Some of you have 
enjoyed almost uninterrupted prosperity. "When you 
consider the dispensations of God's providence to- 
wards you in the time and place and circumstances 
of your birth, in giving you pious and intelligent 
parents, who took care of your health and education, 
and in following you with goodness and mercy all the 
days of your life ; giving you kind friends, faithful 



PECULIAR DUTIES OF THE AGED. 191 

teachers, health and reason, together with abundant 
religious privileges, how thankful ought you to be ! 
But that which above all other things enhances your 
obligations to gratitude is that in his own good time 
he effectually called you from the devious paths of 
iniquity, and adopted you as a child into his own 
household and family, and perhaps has made you the 
instrument of much good to others ; if not on a large 
scale, yet in your own family, and in the church 
of which you are a member. If now, to all these 
blessings, he has given you pious children, who pro- 
mise when you are gone more than to supply your 
place in society, or even if they have been preserved 
from infidelity and disgraceful immoralities, and are 
disposed to pay a serious attention to the preaching 
of the gospel, no words can express your obligations 
to give thanks unto the Lord, and continually to 
praise his name whose mercy endureth for ever and 
ever. " Let us therefore offer the sacrifice of praise 
to G-od continually — that is, the fruit of our lips, 
giving thanks to his name." 



s^dl §0011 ht Sgiit0< 



ANONYMOUS. 



Ah ! I shall soon be dying, 

Time swiftly glides away ; 
But, on my Lord relying, 

I hail the happy clay — 
The day when I shall enter 

Upon a world unknown : 
My helpless soul I venture 

On Jesus Christ alone. 

He once, a spotless victim, 

Upon mount Calvary bled ; 
Jehovah did afflict him 

And bruise him in my stead ; 
Hence all my hope arises, 

Unworthy as I am ; 
My soul most surely prizes 

The sin-atoning Lamb. 

Soon, with the saints in glory, 
The grateful song I'll raise, 

192 



I SHALL SOON BE DYING. 193 

And chant my blissful story 

In high seraphic lays. 
Free grace, redeeming merit, 

And sanctifying love 
Of Father, Son, and Spirit, 

I'll sing in realms above. 

25 



fyt IfflSS 0f Mtmox$. 



ANONYMOUS. 



How impaired the memory becomes as we advance 
in years ! "We are constantly forgetting the little oc- 
currences of everyday life, and our past history 
sometimes appears to us like an indistinct and 
troubled dream. The friends and associates of our 
youth fade from our recollection, and we are fre- 
quently unable to recall even the names which they 
bore. It is true that an aged person will sometimes 
manifest as clear and as tenacious a memory as is 
possessed by any one around him, but his case is a 
peculiar one, and does not warrant others to expect 
that they will be similarly favoured. For loss of 
memory is a common and natural infirmity of old 
age ; and we must not be surprised, and we ought 
not to be impatient, at this indication, among many 
others, of our mortality. 

The present world is not our rest, although we are 
too prone to live as if it were so ; and our failing 
strength and weakened faculties are kind and neces- 



194 



THE LOSS OF MEMORY. 195 

sary remembrancers of our actual position here. 
And not only do they remind us that we have reached 
the evening of life, and should prepare for the dawn 
of immortality, but they tend to assist us in making 
that preparation, by withdrawing us from the ardu- 
ous and engrossing occupations of the world, and by 
gradually weaning us from our natural attachment 
to this present state of existence. Our feeble powers, 
both of body and mind, unfit us for the busy engage- 
ments into which we once entered so heartily, and in 
our retirement from the active duties of life we have 
opportunity for meditation and reflection ; while the 
privations and trials to which we are subjected in- 
cline us to say with the afflicted patriarch, " I would 
not live alway ;" and thus make us willing to depart. 
The failure of memory is, however, very trying 
and inconvenient ; and it is a loss which cannot be 
repaired. " My memory fails clay by day," writes a 
Christian lady in her seventieth year to her sister. 
" I cannot remember where I put anything, no, not 
for an hour ; and though the inconvenience might be 
prevented by having a place for everything, and 
being careful to put everything in its proper place— 
a rule good in every time of life — it is frustrated by 
my forgetting that I forget. No person can conceive 
the trial this is but they who have experienced it. It 



196 NEARING HOME. 

is equally distressing with regard to circumstances 
and dates. I must make a memorandum of every- 
thing ; and then I lose the memorandum, or mislay 
the book in which I note down things of importance. 
However, I have mercies great and numerous to 
balance, and infinitely more than balance this ; 
my life is hid with Christ in God ; my Jesus is my 
surety that all will be well : lie forgets not. All my 
concerns are in his hands ; he will manage all, per- 
fect all, finish all." 

Oh, amidst the changes and the imperfections 
which are incidental to the present life, how full of 
comfort is the thought that Jesus forgets not ! He 
ever remembers his people, and retains the liveliest 
interest in their minutest concerns. " Can a woman 
forget her sucking child, that she should not have 
compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they 
may forget; yet will I not forget thee."* JNo lapse 
of time can enfeeble or destroy his perfect and per- 
petual cognizance of our affairs. 

And although our memories are rapidly failing, 
although they are unable now to fulfil the trust 
which we once reposed in them, they can still grate- 
fully recall the Saviour's precious name, and ardently 
cherish the recollection of his unspeakable love. 

* Isa. xlix. 15. 



THE LOSS OF MEMORY. 197 

The pious Bishop Beveridge, when on his death- 
bed, was unable to recognize any of his relatives or 
friends. A clergyman with whom he had been inti- 
mately acquainted visited him, and when introduced 
into his room, said, " Bishop Beveridge, do you know 
me?" "Who are you?" said the aged prelate. 
Being told who the minister was, he shook his head, 
and said that he did not know him. Another friend 
addressed him in a similar manner, " Do you know 
me, Bishop Beveridge ?" " Who are you ?" he again 
inquired. Being told that it was one of his old 
friends, he replied that he did not recollect him. His 
wife then came to his bedside, and asked him if he 
knew her, but the good bishop had lost all remem- 
brance even of his wife. At last some one present 
said, "Well, Bishop Beveridge, do you know the 
Lord Jesus Christ?" "Jesus Christ!" repeated he, 
as if the name had produced upon him the influence 
of a charm ; "oh, yes, I have known him these forty 
years ; precious Saviour ! He is my only hope." 

" How sweet the name of Jesus sounds 
In a believer's ear!" 

Saviour ! if we forget all besides, may we remem- 
ber thee ! May we look to thee — rest on thee — abide 
in thee — and wait for that happy period when we 
shall be for ever with thee ! 



198 NEABING HOME. 

And when we have reached heaven, we shall no 
longer have to complain of the imperfection of 
memory. For then we shall remember — remember 
without any effort, any mistake, any omission — the 
way in which the Lord our God has led us so many 
years in the wilderness. What a retrospect will that 
be ! The light of eternity will shine on the records 
of the past, and each page of our life will be clear 
and legible. And we shall read them without pain 
or regret. In this world the recollection of bygone 
days is often fraught with much that is sorrowful. 
Scenes and events come back to our thoughts on 
which we dare not dwell, and which we would fain 
forget. But it will not be so above. Perfect and 
vivid as that mental glance which shall survey our 
journey through life from the cradle to the grave 
will unquestionably prove, it will be accompanied by 
so deep and augmented an acquaintance with the 
loving providence of our heavenly Father, and by 
such sweet and entire submission to his will, as will 
render it impossible for the remembrances to awaken 
the slightest emotion of grief in our hearts. Or 
rather, it will furnish us with such accumulated and 
varied proofs of God's tenderness and care as will 
fill our spirits with grateful adoration. Oh, as we 
recall with accurate minuteness the circumstances of 



THE LOSS OF MEMORY. 199 

our earthly history, we shall see enough of God's 
marvellous wisdom and loving-kindness to excite our 
praise throughout all eternity. 

Instead, then, of lamenting over our present in- 
firmity, let us endeavour to realize that freedom from 
all imperfection and those superior mental faculties 
which we shall enjoy in a future state. We are 
now drawing near to the land of perpetual youth 
and vigour. The weakened intellect, the declining- 
strength, the failing memory, these are tokens that 
it will not be very long before our weary spirits are 
at rest. 

A poor aged widow — poor in this world's wealth, 
but rich in faith — in reply to the kind inquiry of her 
minister after her health, replied with cheerfulness, 
" What cause I have to be thankful ! How many at 
my age are confined to their beds, while I am able to 
be about and clean my own house ! I hope I may 
have my faculties to the last." 

u You find, I dare say," he remarked, " that this 
earthly house of your tabernacle is being dissolved : 
now one pin is taken down, now another ; now this 
part melts away, now that." "Yes, sir, I do indeed 
find that my poor old body is very weak ; often when 
I only walk across the room I am extremely giddy ; 
and my memory almost fails me. Sometimes I get 



200 NEABING HOME. 

up and go into the other room to fetch something 
which I want, and when I come there, I stand, and 
have quite forgotten for what I came." 

"You remember, perhaps, what took place when 
you were a girl far more distinctly than what you 
heard or saw only last week ?" 

" Oh yes, sir, ; it seems to me but a few days since 
I was a girl ; my father lived at the mill, and I re- 
member how I used to go into the fields, and have 
many a game there with my little playfellows." 

"Well, my dear friend, memory generally seems 
to be the first faculty which is taken from the aged ; 
and God thus reminds them to forget those things 
which are behind, and to reach forth to those things 
which are before. He prevents their looking back, 
in order that they may learn to look forward" 

Let us all " look forward ;" and as we muse on the 
glorious realities of heaven, can we murmur that we 
should forget the fading things of earth ? Is it not 
well that the nearer we are to the joys of eternity, 
the less vivid and perceptible appear the vanities of 
time? A mist has gathered over the scenes of earth, 
but everlasting sunshine is about to break forth. 



Stager of nn Jyjtir ||dfeb*r. 

SIR ROBERT GRANT. 

With years oppressed, with sorrows torn, 
Dejected, harassed, sick, forlorn, 

To thee, Lord, I pray ; 
To thee these withered hands I raise, 
To thee I lift these failing eyes, 

Oh cast me not away. 

Thy mercy heard my infant prayer, 
Thy love, with all a mother's care, 

Sustained my childish days ; 
Thy goodness watched my ripening youth, 
And formed my heart to love thy truth, 

And filled my lips with praise. 

Saviour, has thy grace declined ? 
Can years affect th' eternal mind, 

Or time its love decay ? 
A thousand ages pass thy sight, 
And all their long and weary flight 

Is gone like yesterday. 

26 201 



202 NEABINO HOME. 

Then e'en in age and grief thy name 
Shall still nly languid heart inflame, 

And bow my faltering knee ; 
For yet this bosom feels the fire ; 
This trembling hand and drooping lyre, 

Have still a strain for thee. 

Yes ! tuneless, broken, still, Lord, 
This voice, transported, shall record 

Thy goodness, tried so long ; 
Till sinking slow, with calm decay, 
Its feeble numbers melt away 

Into a seraph's song. 



FROM THE GERMAN OF J. LANGE. 

What no human eye hath seen, 
What no mortal ear hath heard, 

What on thought hath never been 
In her noblest flights conferred, — 

This hath Grod prepared in store 

For his people evermore. 

When the shaded pilgrim-land 
Fades before my closing eye, 

Then, revealed on either hand, 
Heaven's own scenery shall lie ; 

Then the veil of flesh shall fall, 

Now concealing, dark'ning all. 

Heavenly landscapes, calmly bright, 
Life's pure river, murmuring low, 

Forms of loveliness and light 
Lost to earth long time ago, — 

Yes, my own, lamented long, 

Shine amid the angel throng. 



203 



204 NEABING HOME. 

Many a joyful sight was given, 
Many a lovely vision here, 

Hill and vale, and starry even, 

Friendship's smile, affliction's tear, — 

These were shadows sent in love, 

Of realities above. 

When upon my wearied ear, 
Earth's last echoes faintly die, 

Then shall angel harps draw near, 
All the chorus of the sky ; 

Long-hushed voices blend again 

Sweetly in that welcome strain. 

Here were sweet and varied tones, 
Bird and breeze, and fountain's fall ; 

Yet creation's travail groans, 
Ever sadly sighed through all ; 

There no discord jars the air — 

Harmony is perfect there ! 

When this aching heart shall rest, 

All its busy pulses o'er, 
From her mortal robes undrest, 

Shall my spirit upward soar ; 
Then shall pure, unmingled joy 
All my thoughts and powers employ. 



HEAVENLY REALITIES. 205 

Here devotion's healing balm 
Often came to soothe my breast ; 

Hours of deep and holy calm, 
Earnests of eternal rest ; 

But the bliss was here unknown 

Which shall there be "all" my own. 

Jesus reigns, the Life, the Sun, 

Of that wondrous land above ; 
All the clouds and storms are gone, 

All is light, and all is love. 
All the shadows melt away 
In the blaze of perfect day. 



REV. JOHN KENNEDY. 

Very mournful are some of the Bible descriptions 
of old age. " The days of our years are threescore 
years and ten ; and if by reason of strength they be 
fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sor- 
row ; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away." This 
is no picture of fancy. JS"or is that which Solomon 
gives us by way of enforcing the exhortation, " Re- 
member now thy Creator in the days of thy youth," 
when he says, "While the evil days come not, nor 
the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no 
pleasure in them ; while the sun, or the light, or the 
moon, or the stars be not darkened, nor the clouds 
return after the rain ; — 

"In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, 
And the strong men shall bow themselves, 
And the grinders cease because they are few, 
And those that look out of the windows be darkened, 
And the doors shall be shut in the streets, 

* From " Eest under the Shadow of the Great Rock. A Book of 
Facts and Principles. ! ' By the Bey. John Kennedy, M. A. . 
206 



SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE. 207 

TVTien the sound of the grinding is low, 

And he shall rise up at the voice of the bird, 

And all the daughters of music shall be brought low ; 

Also when they shall be afraid of that which is high, 

And fears shall be in the way, 

And the almond tree shall flourish, 

And the grasshopper shall be a burden, 

And desire shall fail : because man goeth to his long home, 

And the mourners go about the streets : 

Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, 

Or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, 

Or the wheel broken at the cistern. 

Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was : 

And the spirit shall return unto God who gave it. ' ' 

Such is old age, and such its invariable ending. 
And so far as its physical aspects are concerned, as 
it is with the wicked, so it is with the righteous. 

But the picture has another side. " The hoary 
head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way 
of righteousness." Prov. xvi. 31. " The righteous 
shall flourish like the palm-tree : he shall grow like 
a cedar in Lebanon. Those that be planted in the 
house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our 
God. They shall still bring forth fruit in old age ; 
they shall be fat and flourishing ; to show that the 
Lord is upright : he is my rock, and there is no un- 
righteousness in him." Psalm xcii. 12, 15. Even 
to us in Western lands, who, though we have seen 
palm trees and cedars, are not familiar with them, 



208 NEABING HOME. 

this description is very striking and suggestive. The 
ideas of majesty, and beauty, and fruitfulness, and 
honour, all connect themselves with the cedar and 
the palm tree. "The palm," we are told, "grows 
slowly but steadily from century to century, uninflu- 
enced by those alternations of the seasons which 
affect other trees. It does not rejoice overmuch in 
winter's copious rain, nor does it droop under the 
drought and the burning sun of summer. Neither 
heavy weights which men place upon its head, nor 
the importunate urgency of the wind, can sway it 
aside from perfect uprightness. There it stands, 
looking calmly down upon the world below, and pa- 
tiently yielding its large clusters of golden fruit from 
generation to generation. They bring forth fruit in 
old age." When the Psalmist says, " Those that be 
planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the 
courts of our Grod," he alludes probably to the cus- 
tom of planting beautiful and long-lived trees in the 
courts of temples and palaces, and in all "high 
places" for worship — a custom still common in the 
East. Nearly every palace and mosque and convent 
in Syria has such trees in its courts, and, being 
well-protected, they flourish exceedingly. Solomon 
covered all the walls of the Holy of Holies with 
carvings of palm trees. They were thus represented 



SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE. 209 

in the very house of the Lord ; and their presence 
there was not only ornamental, but appropriate and 
highly suggestive; the very best emblem, not only 
of patience in well-doing, but of the rewards of the 
righteous — a fat and flourishing old age, a peaceful 
end, a glorious immortality. 

Old age, with all its physical infirmities and draw- 
backs, may then be very beautiful, very useful and 
very happy. 

But, in order to this, the one grand essential pre- 
requisite is that the old man should have faith in Grod 
and in his Christ. I say "in his Christ," because a 
mere general faith in the being and government of 
Grod is not sufficient. " How dreary would old age* 
and illness be without the great doctrine of the 
Atonement!" said John Foster, when himself old 
and ill. He spoke as a Christian and with reference 
to his Christian life. The omissions and shortcom- 
ings of the best life presented themselves to his mind. 
" One feels," he said, "that, in the great concern of 
religion, much more might have been done." And 
it was this thought that made him revert to the great 
doctrine of the Atonement. Conscious that while he 
had " lived to God" he had lived so imperfectly, had 
come so far short of what he ought to be, and what 
he ought to have done, whither should he look for 

27 



210 NEARING HOME. 

peace but to that atonement through which sin is 
forgiven and the sinner reconciled to God ? And if 
the Christianas condition would be dreary without 
free and daily access to Christ for daily cleansing and 
pardon, how unutterably dark must be the condition 
<of the man who, old and feeble, has never come to 
Christ, and does not now come to him, but bears on 
his soul the load of the accumulated sins of many 
years ! If he only thinks, let him look behind or be- 
fore, and he will find nothing but darkness : behind, 
the darkness of a life without God ; before, the dark- 
ness of an eternity without God. The darkness is 
such as may be felt, and the wonder is that it does 
not appal and overwhelm his spirit. 

There is a second thing needful in order to make 
the old age of man, like the old age of the palm tree, 
fat and flourishing ; it is that the old man should call 
into constant exercise all the principles which belong 
to him as a Christian, and which form his dearest 
heritage— that of which neither worldly adversity nor 
decay of nature can rob him. He is a child of God. 
Let him think of this. Once far from God, now 
made nigh ; once an enemy, now a friend ; once an 
outcast from his Father's house, now restored and 
pardoned : let him think of this. The relation in 
which he stands to God is one so full of blessing and 



SOBBOWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE. 211 

of hope, that lie has only to understand it to find in 
it a fountain of peace and strength. It is natural for 
him amidst his infirmities to look on the dark side 
of things, but his faith reveals to him a bright side, 
a very bright side, and he will do himself wrong if 
he does not strive habitually to look upon it. Be it 
that all things are transient and changing in this 
world, and that he now sees their emptiness more 
than ever, the Glod whom he loves, in whom he trusts, 
his Father as well as his Grod, is without change, and 
he is the portion of his heart, the rock of his defence, 
his shield, and his exceeding great reward. Be it 
that he has seen one generation after another passing 
away, rank after rank of his fellow-soldiers in the 
battle of life mown down by the scythe of death, and 
that he finds himself alone in the world, pining in 
solitude even though surrounded by crowds of travel- 
lers and soldiers younger than himself, his God is 
with him, the Father of his spirit is with him, and 
no fellowship can be more real or sustaining than 
this. Be it that he feels himself now at the very 
end of life, those things which were once, in the fu- 
ture, objects of desire and ambition, being now and 
for ever, in the past, stript of all their false halo — that 
he has come within a span of the very goal of his 
earthly existence, the point beyond which he can see 



212 NEARING HOME. 

nothing, what does it amount to but that he has 
reached within a span of the end of sin and sorrow, 
of care and toil ? — that his earthly education for his 
heavenly state is about being finished, and that in a 
few more months or years he will cease to be a child, 
and will possess all the strength and knowledge of a 
man ? Be it that the aged Christian shrinks, as na- 
ture will shrink, from the grave, and what men call 
the unknown future, let him remember that Christ 
hath abolished death, and brought life and incorrup- 
tion to light ; that the future is no longer unknown, 
the veil having been taken away by Christ ; that, 
whatever may be his own helplessness in the hour of 
the dread transition from time into eternity, he will 
hear a voice, well known and loved, saying, "Fear 
not, for I am with thee ; be not dismayed, for I am 
thy God." 

Let the aged Christian accustom himself to medi- 
tate on these truths and hopes, and promises of the 
gospel, until each of them shall be as habitually pre- 
sent and familiar to him as the countenance of his 
dearest friend, and he may expect to enjoy an eleva- 
tion and a cheerfulness which will triumph over the 
labour and sorrow of his fourscore years. Or, if there 
be physical causes operating involuntarily and irre- 
sistibly to depress him, he will still find that the 



SORROWS AND CONSOLATIONS OF OLD AGE. 213 

grace of the gospel does not leave itself without a 
witness in this assurance: "Like as a father pitieth 
his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. 
For he knoweth their frame; he remembereth that 
they are dust." 

There is a third thing which must be kept in view 
to make it sure that our old age shall be character- 
ized by the fruitfulness and beauty of the palm tree. 
And it is something that concerns the young rather 
than the old. Whatsoever that is which we should 
like to be when we are old — whatsoever grace or 
virtue we are pleased with when we see it in others, 
or should like others to see in us — we must cultivate 
habitually all the days of our life. No sudden effort, 
no convulsive struggle will make us at a bound what 
we ought to be. Most good things are of slow growth, 
need much culture, and are ripened only by time. 
If we would have our age distinguished by patience, 
gentleness, lovingness, consideration towards others, 
and by an all-pervading faith in Grod, we must seek 
to attain these excellences in the season of health and 
of early life. If we are self-indulgent, self-seeking, 
imperious, fretful, distrustful of Grod throughout life, 
much more shall we be all this when the feebleness 
of age has diminished our self-control. 

We are often surprised by a manifestation of un- 



214 NEABING HOME. 

lovely tempers on the part of aged Christians. These 
are the results of the former want of care in spiritual 
culture, and obtrude themselves so painfully on those 
whose duty it is to nurse the aged, that observers are 
perplexed, and do not know how to interpret what is 
so unseemly in persons who are supposed to be ma- 
turing for- a higher state. What a joy it is on the 
other hand, to see the excellences which have been 
conscientiously cultivated by the Christian all his life 
long shining brightly, and with all the freedom and 
spontaneousness of a second nature, in the aged! The 
submission to God, the grateful recognition of his 
hand in every gift and mercy, the holy patience, the 
loving self-forgetfulness, the desire to be useful to 
others, — these bear witness to the rich grace of Grod 
in converting the autumn of decay into a scene of 
spiritual beauty. Thus, but thus only, may the aged 
become like the palm tree, and realize the Psalmist's 
description. 



Jpristratt's ftteto of tetmtiig.* 

FROM THE GERMAN OF C. C. STURM. 

I'm but a weary pilgrim here, 
Life's varied griefs sustaining ; 

The ills I feel, and those I fear, 
Would tempt me to complaining : 

But, Lord, the hopes of joys above 

The pains of pilgrimage remove, 
Or give me strength to bear them. 

Oft in the silence of the night 
My soul her griefs is sighing ; 

And morn, with its returning light, 
No respite is supplying : 

One gleam of heaven relief bestows ; 

That home of rest no sorrow knows, 
But joy reigns there for ever. 

And when the future gives alarm 
Of evils to oppress me ; 

* Translated by Dr. Mills- 



215 



216 FEARING HOME. 

And anxious fears of coming harm 

Thick gather to distress me ; 
Eternity makes time so small, 
Its fleeting fears and sorrows all 
No longer raise my terror. 

When Death, so dreaded from afar, 
Comes nigh, my days to number, 

That, free from every earthly care, 
My head may sink in slumber, 

That peace and joy may banish fear, 

Let then eternity appear, 
With views of future glory. 

Hope, Lord, makes every burden light, 
Its strength from thee it borrows ; 

That glory — fit me for its sight, 
By all my pilgrim sorrows ! 

May it in death my doubts dismiss, 

And form my endless store of bliss 
With thee, in life eternal ! 



Yxm fi£b£ ©rates on. 



ANONYMOUS. 



" Behold, the noonday sun of life 

Doth seek its western bound, 
And fast the length'ning shadows cast 

A heavier gloom around ; 
And all the glow-worm lamps are dead 

That, kindling round our way, 
Gave fickle promises of joy ; 

'Abide with us, we pray !' 

" Dim eve draws on, and many a friend, 

Our early path that blest, 
Wrapt in the cerements of the tomb, 

Have lain them down to rest ; 
But Thou, the everlasting Friend, 

Whose Spirit's glorious ray 
Can gild the dreary vale of death, 

'Abide with us, we pray !' " 

28 217 



§t Hufirmitks of Jtge, 



ANONYMOUS. 



King Solomon, who was a wise observer of human 
nature, gives us* a full description of the infirmities 
of age, expressed in what is called a figurative man- 
ner, the substance of which is easily understood, 
though, from not knowing perfectly the customs or 
the proverbial sayings to which he alludes, we may 
not be able exactly to explain every part of them. 

Solomon describes old age by the darkening of the 
sun, the moon and the stars ; and the return of the 
clouds after the rain. When thick and heavy clouds 
obscure the cheerful light of the sun by day, or of 
the moon and stars by night, people complain of the 
dulness of the weather, as it checks their pursuits 
both of business and pleasure ; and thus it is in old 
age — afflictions of body and troubles of mind often 
produce a gloom ; the days are dull, the nights are 
wearisome, and none of that pleasure is felt which 
the young, who have health, strength, and lively 

* Eccles. xii. 1, 7. 



218 



THE INFIRMITIES OF AGE. 219 

spirits, generally enjoy. And then, it is added, "the 
clouds return after the rain" — that is, one pain and 
affliction succeeds another, as the clouds often do in a 
rainy season. In showery weather the clouds some- 
times disperse, the clear shining of the sun succeeds 
for a little while ; but soon the sky is overcast again, 
and a heavy shower descends. And thus in old age 
painful disorders are sometimes remitted, and the 
hope that health is returning is indulged ; but, alas ! 
the interval of ease is short ; the pain is renewed — 
"the clouds return after the rain." 

Another infirmity of age is thus expressed — "The 
keepers of the house tremble" — the hands and arms, 
like faithful watchmen, were always ready to defend 
the body from assaults and dangers ; but these become 
feeble, are sometimes tremulous by palsy, and can 
no longer prove a sufficient guard from assaults or 
accidents. In like manner, "the strongmen bow them- 
selves" — the legs and thighs, which, in youth were 
like strong men, able to bear a heavy burden, are 
now become feeble, and too w r eak to bear the weight 
of the body, which totters from side to side, and 
without assistance is in danger of falling to the 
ground! The foresight of such a state led the Psalm- 
ist to pray, " Cast me not off in the time of old age ; 
forsake me not when my strength faileth." 



220 NEABING HOME. 

The failure of the teeth, so useful in preparing the 
food for its digestion in the stomach, is another in- 
firmity of age which the wise man thus expresses : 
"The grinders shall cease because tliey are few;" the 
teeth, which in youth grind the food, like the stones 
in a corn mill, are decayed, or loose, or totally lost ; 
so that some kinds of food cannot be eaten at all, 
and others are very imperfectly prepared for the 
stomach. 

In old age the sight usually fails more or less, 
and in many mournful cases is totally lost. Solomon 
thus describes this affliction: " Those that look out of the 
windows are darkened. " The eyes have been justly 
called " the windows of the soul." From these win- 
dows the mind surveys with pleasure the faces of 
dear relations and friends, and the delightful pros- 
pects of nature ; discovers the approaches of danger, 
and reads the page of instruction. But all these 
sources of pleasure and safety are closed ; the day is 
gone ; the night, the long dark night, which will 
know no morning in this life, is come ; and half the 
world, as to our enjoyment of it, is shut out for the 
rest of our days. 

" The doors shall be shut in the streets, when the sound 
of the grinding is low" There seems to be an allusion 
here to the custom of the ancients, who, early in the 



THE INFIRMITIES OF AGE. 221 

morning, as soon as the doors of the house were 
opened, ground their corn for the day in a hand-mill, 
If this refers to the grinding of food by the teeth, 
then it may signify the want of appetite and the 
refusal of food. Or it may signify their loving to 
stay at home, and keeping the doors of the house 
shut to prevent being disturbed by company. Others 
think it refers to "the door of the lips," and the 
aversion of aged people to speak much, especially in 
public. 

"And he shall rise up at the voice of the bird" Old 
age is usually wakeful. Sleep, the " sweet restorer 
of tired nature," often departs from the eyes of the 
aged, or, if they sleep, they are easily disturbed. 
Even the crowing of the cock or the chirping of 
the birds will awake them ; and often, unable to 
rest and tired of bed, they will rise at a very early 
hour. 

"And all the daughters of music shall be brought low." 
Age generally loses its relish for music and singing. 
That which was, perhaps, a great delight becomes 
rather a burden ; the breathing is short and the voice 
tremulous. Aged Barzillai, whom King David would 
have taken to court, declined the proposal, saying, 
"lam this day fourscore years old ; can I hear any 
more the voice of singing men and singing women ? 



222 NEABING HOME. 

Wherefore, then, should thy servant be yet a burden 
to my lord the king ?" 

Another token of old age is, "They shall he afraid 
of that which is high, and fears shall be in the way" 
Steep ascents are very difficult to the aged ; a hill 
alarms their fears, for it threatens to produce much 
pain and weariness. Travelling now seems formid- 
able to them. The young are often too bold, and 
venture into needless dangers ; and the old are too 
timorous, and full of fear lest mischief should befall 
them. They prefer, therefore, staying at home, and 
not exposing themselves to harm abroad. 

"The almond tree shall flourish" The almond tree, 
with its white blossoms, is a beautiful emblem of the 
hoary head. Gray or white hairs are the common 
symptoms of age, and may be considered as truly 
ornamental, for "the glory of young men is their 
strength: and the beauty of old men is the gray 
head." Pro v. xx. 29. Grod himself put honour 
upon it in the law, saying, " Thou shalt rise up 
before the hoary head, and honour the face of the 
old man, and fear thy God : I am the Lord." Lev. 
xix. 32. But let the aged remember that these blos- 
soms are certain intimations of the approach of 
death; they have been called "churchyard flowers," 
which, as one says, " may serve to them that bear 



THE INFIRMITIES OF AGE. 223 

them, instead of passing bells, to give them certain 
notice whither they are shortly going." 

"And the grasshopper shall be a burden" This signi- 
fies the extreme feebleness of the aged, when the 
lightest thing may be a load — when reduced to such 
weakness and nervous sensibility that the least in- 
convenience, though it may be as trifling as the 
weight or the chirping of an insect, may vex and 
fret them. 

"And desire shall fail" Those animal passions 
and desires which in youth were so strong and vio- 
lent, and too often the occasion of so much sin, now 
gradually decline as years increase and strength 
decays. And it is well it is so, for now it is high 
time to get the heart weaned from the world and a 
life of sense, and to " set the affections upon things 
above." 

Then shall " the silver cord be loosed — -the golden 
bowl broken — the pitcher be broken at the fountain, and 
the wheel broken at the cistern." The whole verse 
seems to be a description of the functions of life, taken 
from a well, where there is a cord to the bowl or 
bucket with which the water is drawn up ; a wheel 
by which more easily to raise it ; a cistern into which 
it may be poured ; and a pitcher or vessel to carry 
it away with ; but now all these are broken and be- 



224 NEABINO HOME. 

come useless. Thus, at death, the lungs cease to play, 
the heart ceases to beat, the blood to circulate ; the 
whole surprising contrivance for forming and circu- 
lating the blood from the fountain of the heart to 
every extremity of the body is now entirely de- 
ranged.* 

What follows this derangement? " Then shall the 
dust return to the earth as it was ; and the spirit shall 
return unto God who gave it." Then " man goeth to 
his long home, and the mourners go about the streets." 

How solemn are these words ! They demand our 
most serious attention. When death takes place a 
separation is made between the mortal body and the 
immortal spirit. The body soon corrupts, must be 
buried out of sight, and quickly returns to its mother 
earth. But the spirit — the immortal spirit — what 
becomes of that? Does it cease to exist? No; "it 
returns to God who gave it" to be disposed of accord- 
ing to his holy and sovereign pleasure. If the spirit 
has been renewed by grace and made meet for glory, 
it departs from the body to be with Christ — " absent 
from the body, present with the Lord ;" for " blessed 
are the dead which die in the Lord." But if the 
sinner died in a graceless state, unpardoned and un- 
renewed, it sinks into endless perdition. The spirits 

* Scott's Commentary. 



THE INFIRMITIES OF AGE. 225 

of the just are made perfect, and immediately pass 
into glory ; but the spirits of the wicked " go to their 
own place," as Judas did, and, with the ungodly rich 
man in the parable, are tormented. 

" The mourners go about the streets" Most men die 
lamented by some, either sincerely or in appearance. 
A funeral is a solemn sight, and ought to be con- 
ducted and viewed with deep seriousness. The 
mourners are conveying a dear relation, a kind friend 
or a valued neighbour to his " long home" — so the 
grave is here, with great propriety, styled his 
long home. The deceased had, perhaps, resided in 
various dwellings during the course of a long life. 
He removed from one habitation to another, as oc- 
casion required; but the grave is his last, his long 
home. Thus, as Job speaks, " Man lieth clown, and 
riseth not : till the heavens be no more, they shall not 
awake, nor be raised out of their sleep." But, as St. 
Paul assures us, " the trumpet shall sound, and the 
dead shall be raised ;" and then, saith Job, " Thou 
shalt call, and I will answer thee : thou wilt have a 
desire to the work of thy hands." Job xiv. 12-15. 

The infirmities of age ought to teach us the evil of 
sin. If sin had not entered into the world, these in- 
firmities would not have been known. There would 
have been no pains and aches, no failure of hearing 

29 



226 NEARING HOME. 

and sight, no wearisome days nor sleepless nights. 
These are all the fruits and effects of sin. If man 
had not sinned, he would not have suffered by age 
any more than angels do : they have lived many 
thousand years, and they still enjoy all the vigour of 
youth ; but man lives several years before he attains 
maturity ; his manly vigour lasts but a little while, 
and then he fades like a leaf or withers like a flower ; 
" The wind passeth over it, and it is gone, and the 
place thereof knoweth it no more." Surely, then, the 
aged man should reflect on the evil of sin, which is 
the sad cause of all his sufferings ; for sin is the dis- 
ease, and all our afflictions are but the symptoms of 
it. In some cases the aged may perceive that par- 
ticular sufferings are the effects of particular sins ; 
and may cry, with one of old, " Thou writest bitter 
things against me, and makest me to possess the in- 
iquities of my youth" (Job xiii. 26) ; or, as it is in an- 
other place, "His bones are full of the sin of his 
youth, which shall lie down with him in the dust." 
Job xx. 11. 

The certain approach of death is another lesson 
taught by the infirmities of age. The young may die, 
but the aged must. Death may be near a man at any 
age; but it must be very near the old man. "As 
the Lord liveth, there is but a step between thee and 



THE INFIRMITIES OF AGE. 227 

death. " It is at the door. Do not you hear it knock ? 
Your aching limbs, your failing sight, your trembling 
hand, are all certain signs of the great approaching 
change. Are you then prepared to die ? Have you 
believed in Christ ? Have you, as a guilty sinner, 
fled to him for refuge ? Has your heart been renewed 
by grace ? Are you become " a new creature in Christ 
Jesus?" Are you "made meet," by the Spirit of 
God, " for the inheritance of the saints in light?" 

These are some of the questions which you ought 
to ask yourselves. Put these questions to your 
hearts, and rest not without honest answers to them. 
If you have neglected the care of your soul till now, 
how deeply should you repent the shameful delay ; 
and how earnest should you be in your prayers for 
the pardoning mercy of God through Jesus Christ, 
that now, though it be so late, even at the eleventh 
hour, you may obtain the salvation you have hitherto 
slighted and refused! Not a moment more must be 
lost. Oh then " seek the Lord while he may be 
found, call upon him while he is near. Let the 
wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his 
thoughts ; and let him return unto the Lord, and he 
will have mercy upon him ; and to our God, for he 
will abundantly pardon." 

But let the believer rejoice, for his redemption 



228 NEABING HOME. 

draweth nigh. It is nearer than when he first be- 
lieved. While you remain in the body, Christ will 
continue to support and comfort you. God is faithful, 
who will not suffer you to be tried above what you 
are able to bear. As your day is, so shall your 
strength be. Grod will give you patience to endure 
all your pains and infirmities ; and he has said, I will 
never, never leave nor forsake you ; and then, in his 
own good time, he will relieve you from the burden 
of the flesh, and give you an abundant entrance into 
his eternal kingdom and glory. 

Yet a season, and you know 

Happy entrance will be given — 
All your sorrows left below, 

And earth exchanged for heaven. 



Jugs to %omt. 

FROM THE GERMAN OF H. C. VON SCHWEINITZ. 

Will not that joyful be, 
When we walk by faith no more, 
When the Lord we loved before 

As Brother- man we see ; 
When he welcomes us above, 
When we share his smile of love, 

Will not that joyful be? 

Will not that joyful be, 
When to meet us rise and come 
All our buried treasures home, 

A gladsome company ! 
When our arms embrace again 
Those we mourned so long in vain, 

Will not that joyful be? 

Will not that joyful be, 
When the foes we dread to meet, 
Every one beneath our feet 

We tread triumphantly ! 



229 



230 NEABING HOME. 

When we never more can know 
Slightest touch of pain or woe, 
Will not that joyful be? 

Will not that joyful be, 
When we hear what none can tell 
And the ringing chorus swell 

Of angels' melody! 
When we join their songs of praise, 
Hallelujahs with them raise, 

Will not that joyful be? 

Yes ! that will joyful be, 
Let the world her gifts recall, 
There is bitterness in all, 

Her joys are vanity ! 
Courage, dear ones of my heart ! 
Though it grieves us here to part, 

There we will joyful be ! 



\t llramistb Btttugt\< 



ANONYMOUS. 



It is well, in every period of the Christian life, to 
have a right estimate of our own strength. The 
advanced believer is as unable by his own power to 
defend himself from sin and sorrow as the youthful 
Christian. But to each — and with peculiar force to 
the aged pilgrim, whose lengthened experience and 
deepened humility make him so distrustful of self — 
the promise comes of Almighty help and succour. 
"As thy days," says the Grod of Israel, " so shall thy 
strength be."* In every moment of need, "Fear 
thou not ; for I am with thee : be not dismayed ; for I 
am thy Grod."f When difficulties and dangers arise 
in your path, let not the thought of your own weak- 
ness and insufficiency discourage you; for "I will 
strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will 
uphold thee with the right hand of my righteous- 
ness."! "Without me ye can do nothing ;"|| but 

* Deut. xxxiii. 25. f Isa. xli. 10. J Isa. xli. 10. 

il John xv. 5. 

231 



232 NEABING HOME. 

" My grace is sufficient for thee : for my strength is 
made perfect in weakness."* 

Take courage, aged Christian, as you listen to these 
cheering assurances of the most high God ; and re- 
joice that he is able to "supply all your need accord- 
ing to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus."f For, 
remember, the strength which his promises guarantee 
to you is adequate strength. "As thy days, so shall 
thy strength be ;" the one fully commensurate with 
the other. Your present necessities and your future 
wants might well fill you with distress and appre- 
hension, did not God stand engaged to prepare you 
for every emergency and to sustain you under every 
burden. But since the omnipotent Creator has 
pledged himself to furnish his people with whatever 
spiritual energy they require in their perpetual con- 
flict, you may gratefully exclaim with the Psalmist, 
" The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my de- 
liverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust."J 
Yes, "trust in him at all times," "for in the Lord 
Jehovah is everlasting strength." Let no misgivings 
disturb your mind as you think of approaching and 
augmented trials ; for with the increased demand for 
strength you may confidently calculate upon an in- 
creased supply. Now you are looking, perhaps, at 

* 2 Cor. xii. 9. f Phil. iv. 19. % Psa. xviii. 2. 



THE PROMISED STRENGTH. 233 

some great trouble in the distance, and you are feel- 
ing as if, when it arrives, you must sink under it. 
Ah, you are estimating your power of endurance 
then by what it is now ; you are supposing that, with 
your present weakness, you are summoned to a more 
arduous encounter than you have hitherto met with, 
and you are mournfully anticipating an inevitable 
failure. But do you not perceive that your conclu- 
sion is drawn from wrong premises ? You will not 
have to grapple with increased difficulties before you 
are able to surmount them. God will never call you 
to the fulfilment of any duty, nor the endurance of 
any trial, without having first provided for you suf- 
ficient strength for the occasion. 

But the promised strength is daily strength. "As 
thy days, so shall thy strength be." You must not 
expect to have a large stock on hand which will last 
you for a long time; nor endeavour to make the 
strength of to-day suffice for the wants of to-morrow; 
but in every fresh period of conflict and suffering you 
must seek for fresh strength from above. You can- 
not live upon past supplies, but you may safely rely 
upon present and future succour. The spiritual aid 
which you require will always be vouchsafed at the 
right time. Each day, each season of renewed solici- 
tude will bring with it its own appointed strength. 

30 



234 NEARING HOME. 

It may be that you are advanced, not in years only, 
but also in Christian experience ; still you must de- 
pend as perpetually and as entirely now upon the 
help of God as you did at the commencement of 
your religious life. Day by day, hour by hour, mo- 
ment by moment, you must trust in him and look to 
him. 

And the strength which he grants to his children 
is appropriate strength. "As thy days, so shall thy 
strength be." The days of the spiritual life are as 
varied as the days of the natural life. Sometimes 
they are bright with hope and prosperity ; sometimes 
they are dark with disappointment and sorrow. 
There are days when our path lies through green and 
flowery meadows ; and there are days when our road 
is through a tangled forest or along the edge of a 
precipice. At one time we have to toil up the Hill 
Difficulty ; at another, to fight our way through the 
Valley of the Shadow of Death. Now there is a 
beautiful adaptation in God's grace to the diversified 
circumstances of his people's history. Have you not 
found it to be so, dear reader ? Have you not felt in 
your times of need that there was an exact minute- 
ness in God's gracious dealings with you — that there 
was a delicate adjustment in the bestowal of his 
varied gifts? Expect the same considerateness in 



THE PROMISED STRENGTH. 235 

his conduct still. Believe that the strength which 
he prepares for you is suitable, as well as sufficient. 

What day is it with you now ? The day of physi- 
cal infirmity ? Is your health declining, your energy 
abating, your faculties one by one becoming impaired? 
Is yours the day so graphically described by the 
royal preacher, " when the keepers of the house shall 
tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, 
and the grinders cease because they are few, and those 
that look out of the windows be darkened ; — when 
they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears 
shall be in the way, and the almond tree shall flour- 
ish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, and de- 
sire shall fail?"* Then remember God's promise, 
" Even to hoar hairs will I carry you."f Carry you 
— not leave you to bear up as you best can under the 
burden which old age brings with it, but uphold you 
with his own everlasting arm. He will help you 
to endure with cheerfulness and resignation the pain 
which is occasioned by the decay of nature. 

Is it the day of mental depression ? The infirmities 
and sufferings of the body often affect the mind. 
They cast a gloom over the spirits and throw a 
shadow over our prospects. " Our mind is like a 
stained or clouded glass, which mars the hue of what 

* Eccles. xii. 3-5. f Isa. xlvi. 4. 



236 NEABING HOME. 

is bright and deepens what is sombrous." We are 
discomposed and disheartened by trifles ; we are 
frightened at shadows. All around us and before 
us looks dark and gloomy. Well, there is One who 
knoweth our frame, and remembereth that we are 
dust; and he can support and strengthen our dis- 
turbed and fearful spirits. We need not be ashamed 
to disclose to him our mental weakness ; he feels for 
us all, nay, more than a father's tenderness ; for as 
one whom his mother comforteth, so will he comfort 
us. "He giveth power to the faint; and to them 
that have no might he increaseth strength."* 

Is it the day of spiritual conflict ? Are you sore 
let and hindered in your endeavours to press toward 
the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in 
Christ Jesus ? Do your unseen enemies seem to in- 
crease? are their assaults more malignant? and is 
your own heart inclined to yield to temptation ? The 
great adversary of mankind is sometimes permitted 
to attack with unusual violence the soul of the aged 
Christian. Sins which the believer imagined were 
long since subdued rise up as it were into new life ; 
thoughts and feelings utterly at variance with his 
renewed mind seem almost forced upon him; and 
the fiery darts of the wicked one are hurled at him 

* Isa. xl. 29. 



THE PROMISED STRENGTH. 237 

without intermission. Is this painful experience 
yours ? Be not alarmed or discouraged by it. God 
is faithful, and he will not suffer you to be tempted 
above that which you are able to bear ; but he will 
strengthen you for your last struggle with a disap- 
pointed and already vanquished foe. Clad in the 
panoply which Grod provides for you, and furnished 
with those weapons which through him are mighty 
to repel and overcome your spiritual enemies, you 
shall be enabled to stand in the evil day, and having 
done all to stand. It is true you are weak, but his 
strength is perfected in weakness ; it is true your in- 
firmities are many, but his power rests upon you. 
Fear not ; look to the Captain of your salvation ; 
follow his directions ; rely upon his assistance, and 
you shall at last be " more than conqueror through 
him that loved you."* 

Is it the day of temporal dist? % ess ? Are you poor ? 
in want of the necessaries or the comforts of life? 
incapable of supporting yourself by the labour of 
your hands, and obliged to depend on the charity of 
others ? Or are those dear to you in adversity ? are 
you obliged to witness sufferings that you cannot al- 
leviate, and to hear of troubles which you can neither 
remove nor lighten ? Or have you been bereaved of 

* Rom. viii. 37. 



238 NEABING HOME. 

some beloved relative, some cherished friend, with 
whom you were associated in the closest union, and 
to whom you looked for sympathy and affection. Are 
these, or similar afflictions, the crosses which you 
have to take up and carry, and do you tremble be- 
neath their weight ? Then cast your burden upon 
the Lord, and he will sustain you. He will strengthen 
your faith to believe that these mysterious dispensa- 
tions are necessary for your real welfare; he will 
strengthen your love to receive with meekness and 
gratitude the discipline of a kind and tender Father ; 
he will strengthen your hope to anticipate those 
glorious things which are unseen and eternal, and 
to reckon your present sufferings as unworthy of 
a moment's comparison with " the glory which shall 
be revealed."* 

But there is one day rapidly approaching when 
you will pre-eminently require the succour and sup- 
port of an Almighty hand — the day of death. Ah ! 
that is a solemn day even to the believer. A dark- 
ness, a mystery rests upon our last conflict which ex- 
cites feelings of seriousness and awe in all thoughtful 
minds. And when there is great sensitiveness of 
temperament and timidity of disposition, the Chris- 
tian often shrinks painfully from the contemplation 

* Rom. viii. 18. 



THE PROMISED STRENGTH. 239 

of death, and through fear of it is perhaps all his 
life-time subject to bondage. But why should you 
fear the approach of the last enemy? If God pro- 
mises that as your day your strength shall be, surely 
he will make that promise good in the day of your 
mortal agony. When you pass through the dark 
valley he will be with you ; his rod and staif will 
guide and comfort you. When heart and flesh shall 
faint and fail, he will be the strength of your heart 
and your portion for ever. 

A young Christian once said to a minister, 
" Although I trust implicitly in the Saviour, and 
rejoice in him as mine, yet I look upon death as very 
terrible." At that time she was in perfect health. 
The reply was, " Doubt not that, according to his 
sure word, 'As thy days, so shall thy strength be ;' 
and that there shall be dying grace for a dying day." 
Not long after mortal sickness seized her, but her 
"peace flowed like a river;" and again and again, as 
her fond mother and loving sisters watched by her 
bed of suffering, did she exclaim, " Oh, how true do I 
find the assurance given me that there would be 
dying grace for a dying day !" 

" Yes, in your latest moments, when with death 
And Satan thou must struggle, and not yield ; 
When with dim eye and quickly-heaving breath, 
Thou enterest on that solemn battle-field ; 



240 NEARING HOME. 

Thy Saviour, who has succoured thee through life, 
Will nerve thy spirit for the closing strife ; 
Will lead thee on to glorious victory ; 
For as thy days thy strength shall surely be." 

And then there is the day of final judgment — that 
last day when all the dead shall be gathered around 
the great white throne of the Eternal, and hear from 
his lij3s the irreversible sentence which shall Hx their 
everlasting destiny. Oh, the unutterable moment- 
ousness of that decision ! How will you have cour- 
age to listen to it ? How will you stand with any 
calmness before that awful judgment-seat, and hear 
the records of the past and the awards of the future? 
Ah, strength shall be given you in that trying hour — 
strength so unfailing and so indomitable that you 
shall meet without fear the scrutiny of him who is 
of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. The sweet 
assurance will then be yours that to those who are 
in Christ Jesus there is, there can be, no condemna- 
tion ; that, clothed in the robe of his righteousness, 
and sanctified by the grace of his Spirit, you are 
faultless in God's sight. Who shall lay anything 
to your charge, when God himself will be your 
justifier? 

Thus his blessed promise, "As thy days, so shall 
thy strength be," will never fail. Through life, in 



THE PROMISED STRENGTH. 241 

death, and before the judgment- seat, it will be richly 
fulfilled in your experience. Oh, the comfort of 
feeling sure that, however wearisome and difficult the 
path of duty or of suffering may prove, God will 
imj)art to us adequate and appropriate strength, and 
guide us in safety to the heavenly Canaan ! 

Dr. Doddridge was walking out one day in a very 
depressed state of mind. His trials were at that 
time peculiarly heavy ; he saw no way of deliverance 
from them, and he was greatly discouraged. As he 
passed along, the door of a little cottage was stand- 
ing open, and he heard a child's voice reading the 
words, "As thy days, so shall thy strength be." The 
effect produced upon his saddened feelings was inde- 
scribable ; his despondency vanished, and his heart 
was filled with peace and joy. 

Yes, one simple promise from God is enough to 
chase our fears and cheer our hearts. Our wants 
and weaknesses are many, but he knows them all, 
and is both able and willing to supply our every 
need. Then let us "seek the Lord, and his 
strength;"* let our earnest and constant petitions at 
the throne of grace be, " Give thy strength unto thy 
servant;" "strengthen thou me according unto thy 
word."f For it is they who wait upon the Lord that 

* Psa. cv. 4. f Psa. lxxxvi. 16 ; cxix, 28. 

31 



242 NEABING HOME. 

shall renew their strength. " Wait," then, " on the 
Lord : be of good courage, and he shall strengthen 
thine heart."* The faithfulness of his character is 
your security for the fulfilment of his promises; for 
"the Strength of Israel will not lie nor repent ;"f 
u Hath he said, and shall he not do it? or hath he 
spoken, and shall he not make it good?"J And his 
conduct to his people in past days is a pledge of his 
readiness to help them now; for he is "the same 
yesterday, and to-day, and for ever."§ He has been 
a strength to the poor — a strength to the needy in 
his distress; and he is our refuge and strength, a 
very present help in trouble. 

"Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of 
grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to 
help in time of need."|| There should be no hesi- 
tation on our part to apply for the strength which 
we require, for there is no reluctance on God's part 
to communicate it. In his hand it is to give strength 
to all. A sense of our weakness, and a cry for his 
aid, are the only pre-requisites for its bestowal. 

But how is this strength imparted ? It is the gift 
of God, and through grace is laid hold of by faith. 
Faith is the hand which grasps and appropriates the 

* Psa. xxv. 14. f 1 Sam. xv. 29. J Num. xxiii. 19. 
\ Heb. xiii. 8. II Heb. iv. 16. 



THE PROMISED STRENGTH. 243 

j>roniises, and thus fills the soul with an all-sustain- 
ing, all-conquering energy. The Holy Spirit, by 
whom all spiritual blessings are bestowed, brings to 
the Christian just the strength which he needs, and 
teaches him to embrace it by faith. That faith may 
be weak ; but its efficacy depends upon the reality, 
not the degree of our faith ; and, therefore, if we sin- 
cerely trust in God, through Christ, we may assuredly 
expect that the aid which we look for, and for which 
we supplicate, will be granted us. Yet, while it is 
true that the smallest amount of true faith forms, so 
to speak, a channel through which God's grace flows 
into our hearts, it is equally true that a stronger 
degree of faith is more honouring to- God, while it 
would lead us to anticipate, and prepare us to receive, 
a far greater measure of heavenly assistance than we 
now possess. "According to your faith," says the 
Saviour, "be it unto you ;"* and, therefore, if we de- 
sire to run without weariness, to walk without faint- 
ing, and to mount up with wings as eagles towards 
our rest above, we should make the request of his 
disciples our own, " Lord, increase our faith. "f 

Your " wanderings in the wilderness," reader, may 
be now drawing towards a close. It will, then, not 
be long before you will be called to pass over the 

* Matt. ix„ 29. t Luke xvii. 5. 



244 NEABING HOME. 

river Jordan, that you may enter the promised land. 
Yet, as we have seen, new trials may have to be 
encountered in the last stages of your lengthened 
and perhaps wearisome journey. There is no immu- 
nity from sorrow until you reach that blessed country, 
where God shall himself wipe away all tears, and 
give you that fulness of joy which is inseparable 
from his presence. But, remember, aged Christian, 
the promise, "As thy days, so shall thy strength be," 
and hold the beginning of your confidence steadfast 
unto the end. As you think of the evening of life, 
the night of death, and the solemnities of the last 
judgment, resolve with the Psalmist, " I will go in 
the strength of the Lord Grod : I will make mention 
of thy righteousness, even of thine only."* So shall 
you go on from strength to strength, until you appear 
in Zion before your Grod.f 

* Psa. lxxi. 16. t Pea. Ixxxiv. 7. 



arrg 



**$ i 1 



ANONYMOUS. 



Taery with me, my Saviour, 

For the day is passing by : 
See ! the shades of evening gather, 

And the night is drawing nigh ! 
Tarry with me ! tarry with me ! 

Pass me not unheeded by ! 

Many friends were gathered round me 
In the bright days of the past ; 

But the grave has closed above them, 
And I linger here the last ! 

I am lonely ; tarry with me 
Till the dreary night is past. 

Dimmed for me is earthly beauty ; 

Yet the spirit's eye would fain 
Rest upon thy lovely features : 

Shall I seek, dear Lord, in vain ? 
Tarry with me, my Saviour, 

Let me see thy smile again ! 



245 



246 NEARING HOME. 

Dull my ear to earth-born music : 
Speak thou, Lord, in words of cheer : 

Feeble, tottering my footstep, 

Sinks my heart with sudden fear ; 

Cast thine arms, dear Lord, around me, 
Let me feel thy presence near. 

Faithful memory paints before me 
Every deed and thought of sin ; 

Open thou the blood-filled Fountain, 
Cleanse my guilty soul within : 

Tarry thou, forgiving Saviour ! 
Wash me wholly from my sin ! 

Deeper, deeper grow the shadows, 
Paler, now, the glowing west ; 

Swift the night of death advances ; 
Shall it be the night of rest ? 

Tarry with me, my Saviour ! 
Lay my head upon thy breast ! 

Feeble, trembling, fainting, dying, 
Lord, I cast myself on thee : 

Tarry with me, through the darkness ! 
While I sleep, still watch by me 

Till the morning ; then awake me, 
Dearest Lord, to dwell with thee. 



utlibri* \tx jHsefttltuss. 

MRS. ADELINE T. DAVIDSON. 

Not till the dark .waves of Jordan 
Shall close on the steps that have passed, 

Not till the portals of heaven 

Shall welcome the ransomed at last, — 

Not till I join in the chorus 

That sounds o'er the " crystal sea," 
May I cease to be striving and praying 

That others may enter with me. 

We were riding along very slowly, with the solemn, 
measured tread which compels reflection. She whose 
dust we were reverently depositing in peaceful rest 
was an aged Christian. For many years she had 
been foremost in every work of love and mercy. 
Generous, untiring, and self-sacrificing, she had 
passed a long life of usefulness in her family and in 
the church that she loved. Years of infirmity and 
helplessness followed, and for many weary months 
those hands which had ministered so cheerfully unto 
others could not supply her own slightest need. And 
then her change came. 

* Tract No. 267, Presbyterian Board of Publication. 

247 



248 NEABING HOME. 

" What a devoted Christian she was years ago !" 
was remarked ; " but she has long outlived her useful- 
ness. I have often wondered why such old people 

live. Such a one as old Mrs. J , for instance— so 

perfectly helpless. She was prepared to die, we know, 
and yet she must have been weary of so burdensome 
a life." 

" Did she ever express herself as being weary of 
life?" I asked. 

" Oh ! no, she was as patient as a lamb. If I were 
to be ill a long time, I should think it was intended 
to teach me patience. But she did not need such a 
discipline." 

•" And her family?" 

" It may have benefited them. Mary has waited 
upon her grandmother so long that she has grown 
like her, and has become a most lovely character, so 
gentle and self-denying." 

" Did she retain her eyesight sufficiently to read ?" 

" For several years past she has been quite blind. 
As her grandchildren would come in, she would ask 
them to read a single verse of the Bible, and which 
of the most thoughtless would refuse so small a re- 
quest ? Then she would in her quiet way make such 
varied, such beautiful application of this one text! 
It was a precious commentary. I think that they 



OUTLIVED HER USEFULNESS. 249 

will never forget some of them. I know that, she 
spent much of her time in prayer." 

" Do you suppose she is praying now?" 
" Certainly not. Her prayers are ended. We 
read of praises in heaven, but of no intercessions ex- 
cept those of Christ." 

" Has her family been blessed apparently?" 
" All her children are in the church. Her eldest 
son living is our most active elder, and just before 
her death she heard of the conversion of two of her 
grandsons at the West, who had been in situations 
of peculiar temptation." 

" Do you think she remembered the church?" 
" If you had known her you would not ask that. 
Her church was as dear unto her as the apple of her 
eye. She spent many a long hour in her sleepless 
nights in asking for blessings on the church, when 
the rest of the congregation were sleeping." 

" Just now you wondered why Grod in his provi- 
dence protracted the life of aged Christians when 
their days of active usefulness were over. And yet 
it seems evident that in this case it was the means 
of teaching patience, gentleness, a knowledge of the 
Scriptures, and that in answer to her prayers many 
of her family have been hopefully converted. ISo 
effectual, fervent prayer of the righteous is ever lost. 

32 



250 NEARING HOME. 

As this life is the only season for prayer, hers may 
have been protracted for this express purpose. For 
many generations, for aught you or I can tell, bless- 
ings temporal and spiritual may be granted in an- 
swer to the prayers of that helpless, bed-ridden 
Christian.' ' 

Said the angel of the covenant unto one who had 
wrestled with him all night, "As a prince hast thou 
power with God, and hast prevailed." Are there now 
no princes in prayer like him who strove at Peniel ? 
None now who wrestle not one night only, but 
through long years of infirmity and suffering it may 
be, yet of cherished communion with GJ-od, whose 
prayers, presented "in the golden vial" by an al- 
mighty Advocate, are poured back in priceless bene- 
dictions ? 

Let us try to realize that not one day of weariness 
will be given to the maturest saint that is not neces- 
sary ; not one sigh breathed that has not its errand. 
The servant of Christ need never be useless, under 
any circumstances, in any place, alone, on a bed of 
weakness, shut out from the world, deaf even, while 
the heart can beat with love to a dying world, or con- 
scious thought rise to the mercy-seat. 

We should shine till the last, and the brighter at 
the last. The nearer we draw to the Sun of Right- 



OUTLIVED HER USEFULNESS. 251 

eousness, the clearer should become our reflection of 
his loveliness and glory. 

"Outlived Ms usefulness!" Never let such a sen- 
tence be uttered by a Christian. 

A lady was urging a man in middle life to enter 
once more a Sabbath-school where he had formerly 
assisted, and where his services were greatly needed. 

He declined. " I have taught for twenty years ; I 
have served my time." 

" Then your experience will be all the more valu- 
able," was suggested. 

He persisted in refusing, adding, conclusively, that 
" his work was done." 

The next Sabbath they met in the vestibule of the 
church. As he greeted her she said, quietly, 

" I did not expect to see you here." 

"Ah! why not?" 

"You told me the last time I saw you that your 
work was done. Now I always supposed that when 
our work was all clone the Master would send for us. 
So I supposed you had gone to your reward." 



fyt Haps of t\t mztonzohtt. 



SIR ROBERT GRANT. 



When gathering clouds around I view, 
And days are dark and friends are few, 
On him I lean who, not in vain, 
Experienced every human pain ; 
He sees my wants, allays my fears, 
And counts and treasures up my tears. 

If aught should tempt my soul to stray 
From heavenly virtue's narrow way, 
To fly the good I would pursue, 
Or do the sin I would not do, — 
Still he who felt temptation's power, 
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. 

When vexing thoughts within me rise, 
And sore dismayed my spirit dies, 
Yet he who once vouchsafed to bear 
The sickening anguish of despair 
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry, 
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye. 

252 



THE HOPE OF THE DISCONSOLATE. 253 

When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend, 
Which covers all that was a friend, 
And from his voice, his hand, his smile, 
Divides me for a little while, 
Thou, Saviour, seest the tears I shed, 
For thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead. 

And oh when I have safely passed 
Through every conflict but the last, 
Still, still unchanging, watch beside 
My painful bed, for thou hast died ; 
Then point to realms of cloudless day, 
And wipe the latest tear away. 



mux mom*. 



ALICE CARY. 



One sweetly solemn thought, 
Comes to me o'er and o'er, — 

I'm nearer my home to-day 
Than I've ever been before. 

Nearer my Father's house, 

Where the many mansions be, — 

Nearer the great white throne, 
Nearer the jasper sea. 

Nearer the bound of life, 

Where we lay our burdens down, — 
Nearer leaving the cross, 

Nearer wearing the crown. 

But, lying darkly between, 

Winding down through the night, 

To the dim and unknown stream, 
That leads me at last to the light, — 

254 



NEABER HOME. 255 

Close, closer my steps 

Come to the dark abysm, — 
Closer death to my lips 

Presses the awful chrysm. 

Saviour, perfect my trust, 

Strengthen the might of my faith ; 
Let me feel as I would when I stand 

On the rock of the shore of death, — 

Feel as I would when my feet 

Are slipping over the brink ; 
For it may be I'm nearer home, — 

Nearer now than I think. 



|5eg0tttr % gnmstt 

REV. ROBERT F. SAMPLE. 

"At evening time it shall be light."— Zech. xiv. 7. 
" Thy sun shall no more go down." — Isa. lx. 20. 

Shadows o'er the vale are creeping, 

And the sun sinks to his rest : 
Twilight draws her curtains softly, 

Grolden clouds hang in the west. 
Hushed the noise of busy labour, 

Toil has sought its wonted rest ; 
Whispering trees and murmuring streamlets 

Sweetly soothe each troubled breast. 

Time is fleeting, and I'm drawing 

Near the sunset of my life ; 
Soon will end my weary journey, 

Soon will cease all toil and strife. 
Shadows o'er my path are falling, 

Earthly visions fade away, 
Voices soft and sweet are telling 

Of an endless, orient day. 

256 



BEYOND THE SUNSET. 257 

O'er the misty mountains hastens 

One I've waited long to see ; 
Soft as night- clew falls on meadows, 

His kind bidding, " Come to me." 
Lo ! the purple light of evening, 

Stealing gently up the sky, 
Bears me on its wings to meet him. 

Is this death ? 'Tis sweet to die. 

Jesus calls me, and I'm going 

Where the shadows never come ; 
Now the desert lies behind me, 

And I hasten to my home — 
To my home beyond the sunset, 

Far beyond the day's decline, 
Where the glory is unfading, 

Where the golden portals shine. 



$* ftttdjattgrttg Wtitvto. 



ANONYMOUS. 



The evening was calm and pleasant, enlivened by 
a gentle breeze and the rays of the declining sun. 
At the door of a low cottage sat an old man. His 
hair was white, his form was bent, and his dim eyes 
were fixed on the richly-tinted clouds. Was he ad- 
miring the simple grandeur of an evening sky ? I 
think not. His features wore a sad and troubled ex- 
pression, as if his mind were occupied by thoughts 
which had but little connection with the objects 
around him. And so indeed it was. He was think- 
ing of the uncertain and unsatisfying nature of 
earthly friendship; he was musing over a painful 
proof which he had that day received of the ingrati- 
tude and unkindness of one whom he had loved and 
cherished in years gone by. 

"It is trying, very trying," he said, "to be thus 
deceived and injured by an early friend. It is not 
an enemy that has done this, but it was my compan- 
ion and familiar friend. He was the last person 



258 



THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 259 

from whom I should have expected such treatment ; 
I always reposed the most perfect confidence in him. 
Oh, what is friendship ? It is like a slender reed, 
which, when leaned upon, often pierces us through 
with many sorrows." 

The old man's feelings had been sadly wounded, 
and his mind was much disturbed. But, perhaps, 
just then the serene aspect of nature soothed him, or 
perhaps bright memories of loved and faithful ones 
reproached him for his indiscriminate censure ; for 
he added, in a more cheerful tone, "Not that all 
friends prove false and changeable. Oh no ! I have 
known and shared too much of the warm and un- 
selfish and continued affection of others to believe 
that friendship is nothing but a name. In prosperity 
and in adversity I have found that there are true 
friends. I have loved, and I have been loved; I 
have trusted, and I have been confided in. Life 
would indeed have been dreary without the sym- 
pathy and communion of friends — especially of 
Christian friends. 

"And yet, at the best, earthly friendships are 
very imperfect. Liable to little mistakes — to partial 
interruptions ; or, if unvarying in their character, 
incapable of entering into all our feelings, or of 
responding to all our emotions. And how slight is 



260 NEABING HOME. 

the tenure by which they are held ! A few weeks, a 
days, nay, a few hours, and the most loved of our 
circle may be removed from us. Death severs the 
closest and the fondest ties. In yonder churchyard 
lie the remains of those who were once my dearest 
companions. Many gathered round me in early life, 
and set out with me on the pilgrimage to the celestial 
city ; but they have finished their course, and now I 
am left alone : the grave has divided us — at least for 
a little while." 

Ah, in the last half of that sentence, there was a 
cheering truth involved, and the old man felt its 
sweet influence steal over him. 

" For a little while ! — yes, we shall meet again. 
They will not return to me, but I shall go to them. 
I sorrow not as others without hope, for I know that 
those who sleep in Jesus God will bring with him, 
and so shall we ever be with the Lord. In this 
world of partings, how delightful is the assurance of 
a speedy and lasting re-union with all those dear 
friends who have departed in the true faith of 
Christ !" 

Like the sunshine bursting through a dark cloud, 
this bright anticipation almost dispelled the old man's 
sadness ; and it was succeeded by a thought so full of 
consolation and joy that he speedily forgot the un- 



THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 261 

pleasant circumstance which had lately agitated his 
feelings. 

" Yet it is still more delightful to remember that I 
have an ever-living, an almighty Friend. The best 
earthly friends may change or die, but Jesus Christ 
is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. He will 
never leave me, he will never forsake me. Oh, why 
should I mourn over the loss or the inconstancy of 
earthly friends when my kind and sympathizing 
Saviour is ever with me ?" 

Reader, you cannot have advanced thus far in the 
experience of life without having learned, like this 
aged pilgrim, that instability and uncertainty are as- 
sociated with all human affections. You have doubt- 
less mourned over those friends whom time or cir- 
cumstances, or death have parted from you ; but 
have also rejoiced in the assurance of Christ's per- 
petual and never-changing friendship? Ah, there 
are many who have been deceived and disappointed 
in the trust which they have reposed in their fellow- 
creatures, and who have also never sought that heav- 
enly Friend with whom there is no variableness nor 
shadow of turning ; there are many who have hewn 
out to themselves broken cisterns which could hold 
no water, who have yet refused to turn, when weary 
and dissatisfied, to the Fountain of living waters. 



262 NEABING SOME. 

" thou who driest the mourner's tear, 
How dark this world would be, 
If, when deceived and wounded here, 
We could not fly to thee ! ' ' 

And it is dark to those who, in their hours of sorrow 
and desertion, have no confidence in the Saviour, no 
reliance on his love and sympathy. The heart that 
has none on earth or in heaven around whom to 
twine must indeed be a desolate and drooping heart. 
Grod grant that it may never be ours ! Nor can it 
if we are united by a simple and living faith to 
Christ, for we are then linked with those whom he 
graciously calls his " friends ;" and are assured that 
we possess at all times and under every circumstance 
his tender and unwavering regard. How cheering 
and all-sustaining, amidst the separations, the im- 
perfections, and the declensions which mark the 
fairest of earthly friendships, is the consciousness 
that we have an unchanging and unfailing Friend, 
who is always ready to impart to us his sympathy 
and his succour. 

We would not undervalue the preciousness of 
earthly love. It is one of the choicest gifts which 
Grod bestows upon a fallen world. It is a relic of 
Paradise and a type of heaven. Yet still we are 
taught by experience how precarious is the tie which 



THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 263 

binds us to the dearest and most loved friend. It is 
impossible to help feeling — without the least inclina- 
tion towards misanthropy — that our affections are 
sometimes misplaced, that our dependence is often 
productive of disappointment. Imperfection and 
uncertainty are stamped on all the objects and rela- 
tionships of earth ; for " this is not our rest ;" we are 
destined for a better country, the bright inhabitants 
of which are linked in pure and immortal friendship. 
And while we anticipate with gladness the period 
which shall unite us with that wholly and happy 
brotherhood, we will remember our best Friend — the 
Friend that sticketh closer than a brother — and fear- 
lessly anchor our troubled and unsatisfied hearts in 
his deep and changeless love. That resting-place for 
the affections never has failed — never can fail. The 
circumstances which enfeeble, suspend, and terminate 
many of the friendships which are formed between 
man and man, possess no influence over the emotions 
which the Saviour feels towards his chosen friends, 
and are incapable of altering the position in which, 
if Christians, we stand with regard to Christ. 

For instance, it frequently happens that the dis- 
tance which intervenes between some friend and our- 
selves diminishes, and at length, perhaps, closes our 
friendship. He does not intend, when separated, to 



264 NEABING HOME. 

forget us, but absence gradually lessens the strength 
of his attachment ; his correspondence almost imper- 
ceptibly declines, or, through unavoidable circum- 
stances, is hastily ended ; and as time rolls on, he 
grows more and more indifferent towards us. Had 
he always remained near us, and continued the per- 
sonal intercourse which once subsisted between us, 
he might not have changed ; but in his removal he 
verifies the truth of the old adage, " Out of sight, out 
of mind." Our aged readers can doubtless confirm 
by their own experience the truth of this statement. 
They can recall to mind some, it may be several, of 
their early acquaintances thus geographically divided 
from them, who have for many years been as strangers 
to them. 

But the Saviour, although personally absent from 
his people, never for one moment forgets them. 
From the time when he departed from his disciples 
at Bethany, where a cloud received him out of their 
sight, he gave them the most indisputable and unin- 
terrupted proofs of his unchanged affection. He as- 
cended then as a triumphant conqueror to heaven, 
and was enthroned at the right hand of God ; but 
the glory which as the Mediator was bestowed upon 
him could not intercept from his view the few poor 
fishermen of Galilee ; nor could the songs of angelic 



THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 265 

adoration which he received hush the earnest sup- 
plications that rose from that little band who were 
assembled in an upper chamber at Jerusalem. ~No ; 
his love was the same in heaven as it had been on 
earth ; and the rich and abundant gifts which were 
poured forth upon his faithful disciples were the im- 
mediate results of his exaltation and intercession. 
He consoled and guided them by his Spirit, and 
strengthened them for the avowal and defence of his 
truth. In his remonstrance with the persecuting 
Saul he distinctly identified himself with his people, 
estimating the injuries done to them as if inflicted 
upon himself: "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou 
me?"* And he manifested the deep interest in their 
welfare by his gracious appearance to the apostle of 
the Grentiles, when he bade him "Be of good cheer," 
and prepared him to advocate the cause of his 
Saviour in Rome. 

But it is unnecessary to multiply proofs, either 
from the early or subsequent history of the Church, 
of the unvarying character of that regard which 
the ascended Redeemer cherishes for all those who 
through grace have accepted his gracious overtures 
of friendship. We need only appeal to yourselves, 
dear readers, as witnesses to the cheering fact that 

* Acts ix. 4. 
34 



266 NEABING HOME. 

the love of Christ — that love which passeth know- 
ledge — is unaffected by the withdrawal of his per- 
sonal presence from amongst us. His continued 
intercessions on our behalf, his rich impartation to 
us of all needful grace, and his preparation of a 
place for us in his Father's house, are sure evidences 
of his perpetual and affectionate remembrance. 

Again, one of the causes which render human 
friendship so variable is alteration in worldly cir- 
cumstances. When competency is exchanged for 
poverty ; when, in the expressive language of Scrip- 
ture, we are " made low," what a change passes over 
the little world in which we dwell ! That friendship 
is indeed true and valuable which will stand such a 
testing-time ; for while many gather round us in 
prosperity, few cleave to us in adversity. 

" The friends who in our sunshine live, 
When winter comes are flown." 

It is a bitter trial to find ourselves neglected and 
forsaken when we are most in need of support and 
comfort ; but it is a sanctified trial if it teaches us 
that it is better to trust in the Lord than to put con- 
fidence in man; if it endears to us that heavenly 
Friend, who, though he was rich, yet for our sakes 
became poor, that we through his poverty might be 



THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 267 

made rich. Lowly indeed was his lot on earth ; he 
had not where to lay his head ; and his chosen friends 
and associates were from the humblest ranks of so- 
ciety. It was to "the poor" that he especially pro- 
claimed the blessings of his gospel ; and the sarcastic 
designation of his opponents, which styled him " a 
friend of publicans and sinners," was, in reality, 
beautifully expressive of his true character. 

By his own position in the world, by his mingling 
chiefly with those who were poor and despised of 
men, and by the low and obscure situations in which 
the majority of his disciples have served him, poverty 
has been elevated and dignified. Not many noble, 
not many mighty, does the Saviour call; but he 
chooses the poor in this world, and makes them heirs 
of that glorious kingdom which he has promised to 
them that love him. 

The wealthy and the fashionable may grow cold 
and distant when penury and distress enter our 
home ; but Christ makes our season of affliction only 
the means of drawing us more closely to himself. 
Our loss of property or income, instead of raising a 
barrier between him and us, links us more firmly 
together. He soothes our spirit, sympathizes with 
our grief, and promises that he will never forsake us. 

Or it is possible that the natural infirmities of age 



268 NEARING HOME. 

and a long- declining state of health may gradually 
narrow the circle of our friends. Deafness, or blind- 
ness, or sickness makes our society less attractive 
than formerly. It is wearisome, perhaps, to sit be- 
side us day after day and strive to interest us ; and, 
therefore, some who were once warm and even sin- 
cere in their professions of attachment to us, grow- 
tired of the society of an aged invalid, and their 
visits become few and far between. We feel some- 
times, when contrasting the present with the past, 
that we are forsaken and alone in the world, that we 
are a burden to ourselves and to others. Old age 
brings with it a sensitiveness on this point which 
occasions much mental disquietude, and frequently 
produces a fretful and repining spirit. 

Let us endeavour, in moments of loneliness and 
depression, to tranquilize and divert our thoughts 
by dwelling upon the steadfastness of Christ towards 
us. He does not cast us off in the time of old age 
nor forsake us when our strength fails; he is not 
weary of listening to the oft-repeated narrative of 
our wants and ailments, nor reluctant to cheer the 
solitude of life's evening ; but he beautifully fulfils to 
us his own promise, "Even to hoar hairs will I carry 
you." As we walk with trembling steps through 
the valley of the shadow of death, as we miss from 



THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 269 

our side the friend on whose arm we might have 
leaned for support and protection ; the Saviour bids 
us fear no evil, because he is with us ; Ms rod and Ms 
staff will comfort us ; and Ms presence shall perpetu- 
ally abide with us. Our weakness and our infirmity 
may tend to loosen some of our earthly ties, but can- 
not diminish his kind sympathy with us. Friends 
may fail us, but he will never leave us. 

And even should our friends prove faithful, should 
they retain in old age the affection which they man- 
ifested towards us in youth, yet how suddenly and 
irrevocably may they be parted from us by death ! 
" Our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there 
is none abiding." The dearest ones around whom 
our affections are so firmly entwined may soon be 
summoned into the presence of their Maker, and 
leave us to tread alone the remainder of our length- 
ened journey. We may have to see the grave opened 
for those whose hands we imagined would tenderly 
close our eyes at the last. Stay ! have we not already 
seen this? have not the separations of the tomb been 
painfully realized in our past history ? The green 
hillock, the marble tablet, are they not cherished me- 
morials of the departed, who still live in our hearts 
and are enshrined in our recollections ? More elo- 
quent than the preacher's words, more powerful than 



270 . NEARING HOME. 

the written admonition, are the vacant seats in our 
households — yes, and at our firesides. Ah! the stern 
precept, " Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his 
nostrils ; for wherein is he to be accounted of?"* has 
received frequent and practical illustration in the 
events of bygone days. The tolling bell has mourn- 
fully reminded us that change and decay are stamped 
upon all the things of earth; the cypress tree has 
darkly shadowed forth the solemn truth that " In 
the midst of life we are in death, "f Well, be it so ; 
we will not murmur that God gathers the ripest fruit 
and the choicest flowers from our gardens, since he 
gives us himself as our portion. We will not forget, 
as we sorrow over the dead, that " the Lord liveth !" 
While thinking of the friends whom the last enemy 
has snatched from our grasp, we will gratefully re- 
member that Saviour from whom neither death nor 
the grave can part us. Around our desolated 
hearths, and in our solitary eventide, his voice is 
heard sweetly saying unto us, "Fear not; for I am 
with thee!" J 

Yes, Lord, thou art with us, our firm, our change- 
less, our undying Friend ! " Thou art the same, and 
thy years shall have no end."§ Death cannot divide 

* Isa. ii. 22. t Prayer Book. 

t Isa. xliii. 5. § Psa. cii. 27, 



THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. 271 

thee from thy people, for that vanquished foe hath no 
power over its almighty Conqueror ; and it cannot 
separate them from their Saviour, for its touch will 
only usher them into his immediate and visible pre- 
sence. 

; ' There is no death ; what seems so, is transition. ' ' 

Oh, we are " persuaded that neither death, nor 
life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor 
things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor 
depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to sepa- 
rate us from the love of God, which is in Christ 
Jesus our Lord."* 

Then let us comfort one another with this thought, 
Let the recollection of our indissoluble union with 
Christ, and of his eternal and unchanging affection 
for us, solace and refresh our spirits. " Having loved 
his own which were in the world, he loved them unto 
the end."f Yes, neither external circumstances, nor 
the decay of nature, nor even continual infirmity and 
sinfulness, can alienate the heart of the Saviour from 
those whom he has chosen, and called, and blessed. 
Heaven and earth may pass away, but his word- 
that word which assures us of the freeness and per- 
petuity of his love — abideth for ever. 

Aged Christian ! dwell much on the character and 
* Rom. viii. 38, 39. t John xiii. 1. 



272 NEARING HOME. 

conduct of this mighty and faithful Friend : " Cast- 
ing all your care upon him ; for he careth for you."* 
As life declines, let his preciousness increase ; as the 
associations of earth gradually lessen, cling more 
closely and confidingly to him. Think of him as 
preparing a place for you in the heavenly mansions, 
and as coming to receive you unto himself, that where 
he is there you may be also. And if, while now you 
see him not, you can rejoice in him with joy that is 
unspeakable and full of glory, what will be the rap- 
ture of your emancipated spirit when you are ad- 
mitted to full and uninterrupted communion with 
him ! If now, while you only behold him as through 
a glass darkly, he is in your apprehension the fairest 
among ten thousand and the altogether lovely, how 
will your admiration be increased when you behold 
him face to face ! If now, while you know him but 
in part, your acquaintance with him is the source of 
purest and inexpressible pleasure, who shall estimate 
the happiness and the delight which shall result from 
your knowing even as you are known ? 

* 1 Peter v. 7. 



fyt IWpat^g f ^ CSttS ' 



PAUL GERHARDT. 



I eest upon the ground 

Of Jesus and his blood, 
For 'tis through him that I have found 

The true Eternal good. 

Naught have I of my own, 

Naught in the life I lead ; 
What Christ hath given me, that alone 

Is worth all love indeed. 

His Spirit in me dwells, 
O'er all my mind he reigns, 

All care and sadness he dispels, 
And soothes away all pains. 
He prospers day by day 
His work within my heart, 

Till I have strength and faith to say, 
Thou, Grod, my Father art ! 

When weakness on me lies 
And tempts me to despair, 

35 273 



274 NEABING HOME. 

He speaketh words and utters sighs 
Of more than mortal prayer ; 
But what no tongue can tell, 
Thou, Grod, canst hear and see, 

Who readest in the heart full well 
If aught there pleaseth thee. 

He whispers in my breast 

Sweet words of holy cheer, 
How he who seeks in Grod his rest 

Shall ever find him near ; 

How God hath built above 

A city fair and new, 
"Where eye and heart shall see and prove 

What faith has counted true. 

There is prepared on high 

My heritage, my lot ; 
Though here on earth I fall and die, 

My heaven shall fail me not. 

Though here my days are dark, 

And oft my tears must rain, 
Whene'er my Saviour's light I mark, 

All things grow bright again. 

My heart for gladness springs, 
It cannot more be sad, 



THE SYMPATHY OF JESUS. 275 

For every joy it laughs and sings, 

Sees naught but sunshine glad. 

The sun that glads mine eyes 

Is Christ the Lord I love ; 
I sing for joy of that which lies 

Stored up for us above. 



Wht jfrkttir mnstm. 

CHARLOTTE ELLIOT. 

Holy Savioitk, Friend unseen, 

The faint, the weak on thee may lean ; 
Help me, throughout life's varying scene, 
By faith to cling to thee ! 

Blest with communion so divine, 

Take what thou wilt ; shall I repine, 
When, as the branches to the vine, 
My soul may cling to thee ? 

Far from her home, fatigued, opprest, 
Here she has found a place of rest— 
An exile still, yet not unblest 

While she can cling to thee ! 

Without a murmur I dismiss 

My former dreams of earthly bliss ; 
My joy, my recompense be this, 
Each hour to cling to thee ! 

276 



THE FRIEND UNSEEN. 277 

What though the world deceitful prove, 
And earthly friends and joys remove, 
With patient, uncomplaining love. 
Still would I cling to thee ! 

Oft when I seem to tread alone 

Some barren waste with thorns o'ergrown, 
A voice of love, in gentlest tone, 

Whispers, " Still cling to me." 

Though faith and hope a while be tried, 

I ask not, need not, aught beside ; 
How safe, how calm, how satisfied, 
The soul that clings to thee ! 

They fear not life's rough storms to brave, 
Since thou art near, and strong to save ; 
Nor shudder e'en at death's dark wave, 
Because they cling to thee ! 

Blest is my lot, whate'er befall ; 

What can disturb me, who appal, 
While as my Strength, my Bock, my All, 
Saviour, I cling to thee ? 



I<wtlj Mmttotb in Jyje. 



JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D. D. 



Cheistian confidence and hope in God give fresh- 
ness, strength and joy, even in the period of old age. 
" They that wait on Jehovah," or, in modern English, 
they that wait for him, who evince their trust in his 
goodness and power by patiently awaiting the fulfil- 
ment of his promises — they, though no longer young, 
" shall renew their strength ; they shall mount up on 
wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, 
and they shall walk and not faint." The same 
thought is in the thanksgiving of the one hundred 
and third Psalm, v. 5 : " Bless Jehovah, my soul, 
who satisfieth thy mouth with good things, so that 
thy youth is renewed like the eagle's." From both 
we may conclusively gather that divine grace has 
influences to bestow which can counteract and often 
annul the debilitating tendencies of old age. We 
are not authorized, it is true, to teach that any degree 
of religious affection can turn back the shadow on 
the dial-plate, restore its auburn beauty to the gray 



278 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 279 

head, or neutralize the physical causes of distress ; 
though even here, such is the power of spirit over 
matter, that history shows marvels of an almost 
youthful gladness in blessed Christian old age. But 
we may and can assert that he whose habits have 
been formed in a perpetual waiting upon God, re- 
ceives a hallowed unction of grace, which, so to 
speak, makes him young again, or, more properly, 
keeps him from waxing old within. In the most 
rapid survey we have considered some of the causes 
which make this season of life formidable. All ages 
have observed them ; all philosophies have sought to 
destroy or lessen their force. The most accomplished 
of all Roman authors has left nothing more finished 
than his celebrated tract on Old Age. Short of the 
meridian beam of revelation and its reflections, no- 
thing ever showed more nobly; yet the ray of its 
consolations is but a beautiful moonlight. In vain 
is the venerable Cato introduced to teach us secrets 
which Cato never knew. In this gem-like treatise 
Cicero refers the troubles of age to four classes. Old 
age, so he tells us, is feared because (1) it withdraws 
from the affairs of life ; because (2) it brings infirm- 
ity of body; because (3) it abridges or ends our 
pleasures ; and (4) because it leads to death. Already, 
in treating of these several heads, much is said truly, 



280 NEABING HOME. 

ably, and to a certain extent satisfactorily, on the 
first and third topics ; but on the last there is nothing 
but melancholy conjecture. Even in regard to the 
other heads, of business, health and pleasure, the 
suggestions are infinitely below those known by the 
humblest Christian rustic. For what did this great 
and eloquent Roman know of the oil which grace 
pours into the sinking and almost expiring lamp ? 

It is not to be denied, when we come with candour 
to the investigation, that, as a general truth, old age 
withdraws men from the employments of life, and 
seals up the active business years. In the majority 
of instances, however, this retreat from labour is 
voluntarily sought long before the access of grave 
infirmity. Indeed, in prosperous communities many 
retire too early, under a chimerical hope of enjoying 
an elegant repose, for which they have made no pro- 
vision by mental culture and discipline of moral 
habits. There is, it is true, another sort of recession 
from productive labours which we occasionally ob- 
serve in old men, and which arises wholly from an 
unchastened selfishness. Let any one grow wealthy 
without the warming and expanding influences of 
benevolence, and he will more and more lose his in- 
terest in all that is going on in the world. Even 
wars and revolutions touch him only in their finan- 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 281 

cial aspects, and the daily journal is to him not so 
much a courier of news as a barometer of loss and 
gain. Without religion, the circle becomes more 
contracted. Friends have departed by scores, if not 
by hundreds. What cares he for mighty movements 
in behalf of humanity and holiness around him? 
What cares he for posterity, the country or the world, 
so that he can exalt his own gate, or die worth some 
round sum which floats before him as his heaven ? 
In the same degree he wraps himself in his mantle, 
which is daily shrinking to his own poor dimensions. 
This is misery indeed. Take away the blessed sun, 
and everything becomes wintry, frozen, all but dead : 
take away more blessed love, and the heart is dumb, 
cheerless, insulated, meanly poor, so that the Latins 
named such a one Misek. Let us leave him, shiver- 
ing in his cave, overhung with icicles, and come out 
into the evening sunshine to consider the aged be- 
liever. He is, like Mnason, " an old disciple." He 
still learns. The Greek story tells us that when 
Solon lay dying, and overheard some conversation 
on philosophy in his apartment, he raised his head 
and said, " Let me share in your conversation, for 
though I am dying I would still be learning." Ten 
thousand times has this been more reasonably ex- 
emplified in dying Christians, who consider the whole 

36 



282 WEARING HOME. 

of this life as but the lowest form of the school into 
which they have been entered. And in regard to 
activity, while modes of service must vary with the 
bodily condition, we are bold to maintain that innu- 
merable Christians now living are, in advanced life, 
impressing the whole engine of human affairs with 
as momentous a touch as at any previous stage of 
existence. If there is wisdom, the proper jewel of 
age and divine grace in its manifold actings, there 
need be no lack of influence. They still lift up the 
eagle pinion, and soar in such greatness as belongs 
to their nature. But the point to which we would 
ask more marked attention is this, that the aged be- 
liever, so far from being selfishly dead to what is 
going on in the world, is more vigilant and more in 
sympathy with all than even in his days of youth. 
Blessed be Grod, we have seen this again and again. 
The man who waits on God, the man of faith and 
hope, the man of melting benevolence, looks through 
the loopholes of retreat upon a world whose vast and 
often terrific revolutions interest him chiefly as in- 
cluded in a cycle of providential arrangements calcu- 
lated to develop and exhibit the glory of grace. His 
heart beats responsive to these. The news of Christ's 
kingdom is as dear to him as when he was vehe- 
mently active in the field. He looks down the ages 



YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 283 

by the lamp of prophecy, and beholds events which 
will take place when he shall have been long in Para- 
dise. This connects him with the cause of Christ on 
earth, and redeems him from that miserable, dungeon- 
like seclusion of soul which wastes away the aged 
worldling. So far is it from being true that these 
portraitures are figments of religious imagination, 
that we have been led to the choice of the subject by 
knowledge and recollection of this very paradox in 
actual example, to wit : extreme old age made light, 
strong and happy by community of interest in the 
progressive triumphs of philanthropy and missions. 
When, according to the Talmudic fable, the eagle 
soars toward the sun, he renews the plumage of his 
former days. As the serene disciple withdraws him- 
self from any personal agency in the entangling 
plans of life, he studies more profoundly what his 
Master is weaving into the web of history. No longer 
young, he has a heart which gushes in sympathy 
with the young, and he cheers them on. He places 
the weapons in their hands. He takes from the wall 
his sword, shield and helmet, and rejoices that Glod 
still has younger soldiers in the field. He lives his 
life over again in their achievements, and pictures to 
himself more signal victories after he shall have 
gone. Like the wounded hero Wolfe, he could even 



284 NEABING HOME. 

die more happy if the shout of victory should arouse 
his failing perception. Far from being shut up in 
morose, neglectful selfishness, he glories that God's 
cause still lives and must prevail. 



'0j0urnhtg as nt un Mnn. 



A. D. F. RANDOLPH. 



I look abroad upon the verdant fields, 

The song of birds is on the summer air ; 
Within, how many a treasure something yields 
To bless my life and round the edge of care ; 
And yet the earth and air, 
All that seems good and fair, 
That still is mine or for a time hath been, 
Now teach me I am but a pilgrim here, 
Without a home, and dwelling at an inn. 

Not always has the outlook been so clear ; 

There have been days when stormy gusts went 

t>y; 

Nights when my wearied heart was full of fear, 
And Glod seemed farther off than stars and sky ; 
Yet then, when grief was nigh, 
My soul could sometimes cry, 

* From Hopefully Waiting, p. 73. 

285 



286 NEABING HOME. 

Out of the depths of sorrow and of sin, 
That at the worst I was but pilgrim here, 

With home beyond, while dwelling at an inn. 

Now I complain not of this life of mine, 

I less of shade have had than of the sun ; 
The gracious Father, with a hand divine, 
Has crowned with mercies his unworthy one; 
My cup has overrun, 
And I, his will undone, 
Have changed his countless blessings into sin ; 
As I forgot I was but pilgrim here, 

Homeless at best, and dwelling at an inn. 

Look on me, Lord ! Have I not need to pray 

That this fair world, that gives so much to me, 
Serve not to lead my steps so far astray 
That at the end I stand afar from thee ? 
Dear Lord, let this not be ;• 
Nay, rather let me see 
Beyond this life my happiest days begin ;s 
And singing on my way, a pilgrim here, 
Rejoice that I am dwelling at an inn. 

Dear Son of God ! by whom the world was made, 
Yet homeless, had not where to lay thy head, 



SOJOURNING AS AT AN INN. 287 

(Not e'en by kindred was thy body laid 
In Joseph's tomb, thou Lord of quick and dead !) 
By thy example led, 
Of me may it be said, 
When I shall rest and perfect peace begin, 
He lived as one who was a pilgrim here, 

And found his home while dwelling at an inn. 



wo tm ©fir wsriple.* 

WILLIAM S. PLUMER, D. D. 

My heart is drawn towards you. I too am going 
down the hill of life, and the longer I live the more 
sympathy do I feel with the aged. I have no longer 
the sprightliness of youth. In common with you I 
know the sorrow caused by the failure of hopes. A 
light heart carries the young swiftly along, but in us, 
who have passed the middle of life, the spirit is at 
least chastened, if not somewhat broken. Once past 
middle life, we seldom forget our griefs as in youth. 
Indeed, the memory of some sorrows never grows 
dim. Twenty years after his child is thought to be 
dead, Jacob cries out, " Joseph is not," as if he had 
been missing but a day or a week. We too have 
lost friend after friend, not only by death, but by 
alienation. Very few of the friends of our childhood 
live to love us. One said: " I walk the streets, I go 
to the assemblies of my brethren, but I find none 
who began life with me. I stand alone like a with- 

* Tract No. 62, Presbyterian Board of Publication. 

288 



TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 289 

ered tree, where once was a forest clothed with ver- 
dure." We may have our descendants around us, 
and "children's children are the crown of old men." 
But sometimes children give as much pain as pleas- 
ure. Or Grod may have written us childless. If so, 
how sad are our homes ! Or greedy heirs may be 
indecently hovering around to pounce upon our pelf 
as soon as we are gone. Nor care they how soon we 
are called away. How many of us, too, are cut off 
(sometimes by our own fault) from useful employ- 
ment! We lack occupation. The mind, not being- 
drawn out in healthy action, preys upon itself. Our 
latter years are often spent in melancholy useless- 
ness. Our senses are often blunted as we grow old. 
Sweet sounds and sweet odours and delicious flavours 
cannot now regale us as in our younger clays. To us 
the blue sky is no longer blue, and the green moun- 
tains are no longer green, and the voice of birds is 
no longer music. Great changes have come on. 
Times, manners, fashions, customs, habits, opinions, 
have all changed, nor have we changed with them. 
The world often seems to us to be moving too fast or 
too slowly, and we cry out, "What are we coming 
to?" 

One who had long served Grod and his generations, 
seeing how things were going, thus wrote : 

37 



290 NEABING HOME. 

" Prophet of ills, why should I live, 
Or by my sad forebodings grieve 

Whom I can serve no more ? 
I only can their loss bewail, 
Till life's exhausted sorrows fail, 

And the last pang is o'er." 

The pious aged have no deeper sorrows than those 
which spring from the memory of their sins. Job 
said, " Thou makest me to possess the iniquities of 
my youth." David cried: " Remember not against 
me the sins of my youth." The late Dr. Moses Hoge, 
of blessed memory, said: " I feel great need of offer- 
ing the prayer of the old bishop, who said, ' God, 
pardon my sins of omission.' " He who in old age 
feels no need of sorrow for past sins is no child of 
God. Nor can we fail to see that our time on earth 
is short. A few more days and our career will be 
run. We must bid farewell to all we have ever 
known ; we must go to an untried eternity, and un- 
dergo the scrutiny of God. Each of us, too, has sor- 
rows unknown to men, and, so far as we know, pecu- 
liar to ourselves. We have not breathed them to 
any mortal, and perhaps we never shall, but the 
heart knoweth its own bitterness. 

Yet all is not sad in our state. We have memories 
of joys, of mercies, and of friends, which, though 
tinged with a brown shade, are dear to our hearts. 



TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 291 

In general, too, we are treated with respect. Good 
men think with Solomon that " the hoary head is a 
crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteous- 
ness." The respect paid us is well suited to smooth 
our way. We have also stores of experience, which 
wealth could not buy. We have been taught the art 
of walking in darkness and having no light, and yet 
trusting in the Lord. We know that all is not lost 
which is brought into danger. We know better than 
the young disciple what is meant by such texts as 
these: "When I am weak, then I am strong;" "he 
that loseth his life, shall find it ;" " I have meat to 
eat, that ye know not of." A thousand good lessons 
of this sort has God taught us. We know, too, that 
in his providence, as in nature, the darkest hour is 
just before day. Why may it not be so with us, as 
our sky is more and more lowering? May not 
eternal day be ready to burst upon us ? Indeed, a 
thousand mercies still surround us. If our hearts 
are right, we cannot fail to see them. Let us often 
count them up. 

Will you permit one who is less than the least of 
all saints to give you a few words of counsel ? If 
the advice given is good, follow it ; if not good, re- 
ject it. 

1. As long as you can, maintain habits of bod- 



292 NEARING HOME. 

ily activity. If you cannot do much, do what 
you can. 

2. Keep your mind employed. Many aged men 
review their youthful studies. President Edwards 
reviewed his Euclid every year. Some begin new 
studies late in life, as Dr. Scott and Dr. Bogue. Read 
something with care every day, or cause it to be read 
to you. The history of the aged is full of warnings 
against idleness of mind and laziness of body. Your 
physician and pastor can both give you many reasons 
in favour of activity. The average length of life 
among retired merchants, who have given up all 
business, is said not to exceed two or three years. If 
you live in idleness, life will soon be a burden. 
Beware ! 

3. If you have property, retain exclusive control 
of enough to keep you from want. A dependent old 
age may be unavoidable, and, when it is, should be 
borne submissively. But it is a great trial. If men 
will treat you well without property, they will also 
if you have your own means. The reverse of this is 
not always true. 

4. But beware of covetousness, that universal sin. 
"The love of money is the root of all evil." 
It is very apt to grow rapidly on the aged. Be 
ashamed to deny to those who have a right to expect 



TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 293 

it, a share in your estate, when you can divide it. As 
far as you can, be your own almoner and executor. 

5. Be always trying to clo good by word and deed, 
by precept and example. Encourage the timid, warn 
the reckless, visit the poor, support humane and mis- 
sionary institutions, teach the ignorant, be eyes to the 
blind and feet to the lame, make the widow's heart 
to sing for joy, and do whatever will bless men and 
honour Grocl. " JN T o man liveth to himself." "As 
you have opportunity, do good to all men." 

6. Cultivate cheerfulness of temper. Try to be 
pleased with your lot and your generation. Be not 
a murmurer and complainer. A sour old man or 
woman is neither happy, nor useful, nor amiable. 
Remember, the birds sang, the lambs skipped, and 
the children laughed when you were young, and they 
always will do it. Find not fault needlessly. " Say 
not thou, What is the cause the former days were 
better than these ? for thou inquirest not wisely con- 
cerning this." Ever since Adam fell there have 
been wicked men and wicked deeds on earth. I ex- 
ceedingly like a common saying of a pious old Eng- 
lish bishop, " Serve God and be cheerful." 

7. Yield not to tormenting despondency about the 
cause of Christ. The Church is safe. She is graven 
on the palms of her Redeemer's hands. The cause 



294 NEABING HOME. 

of piety may decline in one place or at one time, but 
Christ's kingdom is gaining every year. The saints 
may lose a battle, but not the war. Christ loves the 
Church more than you do. " He shall not fail nor 
be discouraged till he have set judgment in the 
earth." " Hast thou not known ? hast thou not heard, 
that the everlasting Grod, the Lord, the Creator of the 
ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary?" 
" No weapon formed against Zion shall prosper." 
" The earth shall be full of the knowledge of the 
Lord, as the waters cover the sea, for the mouth of 
the Lord hath spoken it." Rest assured that Christ 
" shall see the travail of his soul and be satisfied." 

8. Make yourself well acquainted with the pro- 
mises of God, especially those which have a peculiar 
pertinency to you. If you are a widow, hear him 
saying, " A father of the fatherless, and a judge of 
the widows is Grod in his holy habitation." " He 
relieveth the fatherless and widow." See the Con- 
cordance under the word "widow." Are you child- 
less? Thus saith the Lord unto the [childless] 
" that keep my Sabbaths, and choose the things that 
please me, and take hold of my covenant ; even unto 
them will I give in mine house and within my walls 
a place and a name better than of sons and daugh- 
ters : I will give them an everlasting name that shall 



TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 295 

not be cut off." Are you poor? The promise is: 
" Thy bread and thy water are sure." " A little that 
a righteous man hath is better than the riches of 
many wicked." Are you wearied in the greatness 
of your way ? " They that wait upon the Lord shall 
renew their strength." " The feeble among them 
shall be as David." And how was David ? Though 
a stripling, he slew a bear and a lion, and the giant 
of Gath. Whatever be your condition or fears, here 
are the promises to all the aged pious : " They shall 
bring forth fruit in old age." " Even to your old 
age I am He, and even to hoar hairs I will carry 
you : I have made, and I will bear, even I will carry 
you and deliver you." 

" What more could he say than to you he has said?" 

Therefore set your hope and put your trust in God. 
Embrace the promises. They can never fail to those 
who rest upon them. Nothing but unbelief can an- 
nihilate them. Take firm hold of them, and your 
last days shall be your best days, and as the outward 
man waxes weaker the inward man shall be renewed 
day by day, and God himself shall be your God. " It 
is one of the best sights to see silver hairs adorned 
with golden virtues," yea, with graces more precious 
than gold. Have faith in God. Hope to the end. 



296 NEARING HOME. 

9. Study to acquire and maintain clear views of the 
riches and freeness of Christ. He is a Prophet. 
" Learn of him." He is a Priest. Rely on his 
great sacrifice and intercession. His intercession is 
as precious as his blood. If you wish an assurance 
that you shall never fall into condemnation, here it 
is: "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to 
have you, that he may sift you as wheat ; but I have 
prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not." Christ is a 
King. His " throne is for ever and ever." He has 
all power in heaven and in earth. He is the vine, 
ye are the branches. Because he lives you shall 
live also. He is the good Shepherd, and none is 
able to pluck his sheep out of his hand, nor his 
lambs out of his bosom. He is God, and therefore 
counts it not robbery to be equal with God. He is 
man, and therefore he is not ashamed to call us 
brethren. He was dead, and so he made expiation. 
He is alive for evermore, and so we shall never 
perish. If sin calls for a curse, the death of Christ 
calls louder for pardon. If he is the Author of our 
faith, he is also its Finisher. Study his character and 
work. You cannot know too much of him. He is 
the desire of all nations, the delight of the sons of 
men, God over all, blessed for ever. 

10. Endeavour to glorify God in all your sorrows, 



TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 297 

and especially in your death. If your children give 
you grief, say as David in his old age : " Though my 
house be not so with God [as I could wish], yet hath 
he made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered 
in all things and sure." If your children are cut 
down in a way that makes you tremble for their 
souls, say as Eli : "It is the Lord ; let him do what 
seemeth him good." If men revile you, say as the 
royal Psalmist: "Let him curse. .It may be God 
will look upon mine affliction and reward me good 
for this cursing." If you be under any affliction 
which is common to men, why should you think it 
strange ? " Shall we receive good at the hand of the 
Lord, and shall we not receive evil" also ? If you 
can say nothing to the praise of Gocl in your afflic- 
tions, at least be " dumb and open not your mouth." 
If your afflictions be strange, so were Christ's. "He 
was tempted in all points as we are, yet without sin." 
" If we suffer with him, we shall also reign with him." 
By quietness and patience in affliction you will be 
prepared to honour Gocl in your death. It is as 
much a duty to glorify God in death as in life. We 
may, by his grace, do more in an hour at death than 
we have done in years before. Samson's greatest 
achievement against the enemies of God and of his 
Church was in his death. Our last battle is com- 

38 



298 NEABING HOME. 

monly our greatest. Happy is he who is able to 
shout and sing, "0 death, where is thy victory?" 
" Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord." 

There is something very remarkable in the fact 
that the aged seldom fall into so great a decay of 
their faculties as to forget those things which have 
most engaged their affections. Nearly two thousand 
years ago, Cicero (in his treatise concerning old age) 
said that he had never heard of a miser's memory so 
far failing him that he forgot where his treasure was 
hid. He loved that most, and he remembered it 
longest. I have seen a pious man who was said to 
be one hundred and six years old. All his faculties 
were greatly impaired. His memory was so far gone 
that he could no more learn any man's name. Yet 
he could repeat many of Watts' hymns, and give 
an intelligible account of the w r ay of life. It is 
said that Bishop Beveridge in his old age, being 
near death, was visited by some of his old friends, 
who, by turns, took his hand and said, " Bishop 
Beveridge, do you know me?" His answer was, 
"No." His wife asked the same question, and re- 
ceived the same answer. At length one said, "Bishop 
Beveridge, do you know Jesus Christ?" "Yes, oh 
yes," said he ; "I shall never forget him. When 
sinking in despair under the load of my sins, Jesus 



TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 299 

Christ showed me mercy and saved me. And he 
has been with me ever since." 

Polycarp suffered martyrdom at Smyrna in the 
year of our Lord 166, aged ninety-five years. The 
historian says that when he appeared before the 
proconsul, the latter said to him, " Swear, curse 
Christ, and I will set you free !" The old man an- 
swered, " Eighty-and-six years have I received only 
good at his hands. Can I then curse my King and 
Saviour?" When the proconsul continued to press 
him, Polycarp said, "Well, then, if you desire to 
know who I am, I tell thee freely, I am a Christian I 
If you desire to know what Christianity is, appoint 
an hour and hear me." The proconsul, who here 
showed that he would gladly have saved him if he 
could silence the people, said to Polycarp, " Only 
persuade the people." He replied, "To you I felt 
myself bound to render an account, for our religion 
teaches us to treat the powers ordained by Grod with 
becoming reverence, as far as is consistent with our 
salvation. But as for those without, I consider them 
undeserving any defence from me." 

And justly, too ! for what would it have been but 
throwing pearls before swine, to attempt to speak of 
the gospel to a wild, tumultuous, and fanatical mob ? 
After the governor had in vain threatened him with 



300 NEABINQ HOME. 

the wild beasts and the fire, he made the herald pub- 
licly announce in the circus that Polycarp had con- 
fessed himself a Christian. These words contained 
the sentence of death against him. The people in- 
stantly cried out, " This is the teacher of Asia, the 
father of the Christians, the enemy of the gods, who 
has taught so many not to pray to the gods and not 
to sacrifice." 

As soon as the proconsul had complied with the 
demand of the populace, that Polycarp should perish 
on the funeral pile, Jews and Gentiles hastened with 
the utmost eagerness to collect the wood from the 
workshops and the baths. When they wished to 
fasten him with nails to the pile, the old man said, 
" Leave me thus, I pray, unfastened. He who has 
enabled me to abide the fire will give me strength 
also to remain firm on the stake." Before the fire 
was lighted he prayed thus : "0 Lord, Almighty 
God ! the Father of thy beloved Son, Jesus Christ, 
through whom we have received the knowledge of 
thee ! God of the angels, and of the whole creation ; 
of the whole human race, and of the saints who 
live in thy presence ! I thank thee that thou hast 
thought me worthy of this day, and this hour, to 
share the cup of thy Christ among the number of thy 
witnesses!" 



TO AN OLD DISCIPLE. 301 

Thus praying, the flame was kindled, and he went 
to heaven as it were in a chariot of fire. 

Thus God fulfils the promises : " Even to your old 
age I am he, and even to hoar hairs I will carry you." 
" I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." 

Aged disciple, can you not trust him ? Is he not 
worthy ? May you not say, " I will not fear what 
man can do unto me;" "All the days of my appointed 
time will I wait till my change come ;" " Lord, what 
thou wilt, when thou wilt, and how thou wilt ;" "I 
know no will but thine;" "The Lord is my portion;" 
" Jesus, my Lord and my God, to thee I commit my 
spirit in life, in death, and for ever." 



©nig Watting. 

ANONYMOUS. 

A very aged Christian, who was so poor as to be in an almshouse, was 
asked what he was doing now. He replied, " Only waiting." 

Only waiting till the shadows 

Are a little longer grown ; 
Only waiting till the glimmer 

Of the day's last gleam is flown ; 
Till the night of earth is faded 

From the heart once full of day ; 
Till the stars of heaven are breaking 

Through the twilight soft and gray. 

Only waiting till the reapers 

Have the last sheaf gathered home ; 
For the summer-time is faded, 

And the autumn winds have come. 
Quickly, reapers, gather quickly 

The last ripe hours of my heart, 
For the bloom of life is withered, 

And I hasten to depart, 

302 



ONLY WAITING. 303 

Only waiting till the angels 

Open wide the mystic gate, 
At whose feet I long have lingered, 

Weary, poor, and desolate. 
Even now I hear the footsteps, 

And their voices, far away; 
If they call me, I am waiting, 

Only waiting to obey. 

Only waiting till the shadows 

Are a little longer grown ; 
Only waiting till the glimmer 

Of the day's last gleam is flown ; 
Then from out the gathering darkness 

Holy, deathless stars shall rise, 
By whose light my soul shall gladly 

Tread its pathway to the skies. 



;riettir after Jfrknir fktfutis. 



JAMES MONTGOMERY. 



Friend after friend departs ; 

Who hath not lost a friend ? 
There is no union here of hearts 

That finds not here an end : 
Were this frail world our only rest, 
Living or dying, none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time, 
Beyond this vale of death, 

There surely is some blessed clime 
Where life is not a breath, 

Nor life's affections transient fire, 

Whose sparks fly upward to expire. 

There is a world above, 

Where parting is unknown— 

A whole eternity of love, 
Formed for the good alone ; 

And faith beholds the dying here 

Translated to that happier sphere. 



304 



FRIEND AFTER FRIEND DEPARTS. 305 

Thus star by star declines, 

Till all are passed away, — 
As morning high and higher shines 

To pure and perfect day : 
JSTor sink those stars in empty night ; 
They hide themselves in heaven's own light. 



39 



0rirs in i|*a:s0tt. 



ANONYMOUS. 



" Cast me not off in the time of old age ; forsake me 
not when my strength faileth" Psa. lxxi. 9. 

Aged believer ! you feel your dependence upon 
God for support and succour. If lie should forsake 
you, if he should cast you off, you would indeed be 
helpless and hopeless. But you rejoice in the assu- 
rance that this can never be realized. You know 
that he will never leave you to bear up alone the 
pressure of your trials and infirmities ; that he will 
never relax the grasp which enfolds you in his love. 
And therefore your prayer is rather the expression 
of confidence than the apprehension of fear. You 
ask for that which he has promised, which you are 
certain he will grant — the continuance of his gracious 
aid. In youthful days, it may be, in healthful hours, 
you found that without him you were weak and un- 
protected ; and now in the time of old age, when 
your strength faileth, you are more deeply conscious 
of your need of his help. Well, ask and you shall 

306 



WORDS IN SEASON. 307 

receive ; cast your burden, cast yourself upon him, 
and he will sustain you. Fear not, for he is with 
you ; be not dismayed, for he is your God ; he will 
strengthen you ; yea, he will help you ; yea, he will 
uphold you with the right hand of his righteous- 
ness.* These things will he do unto you, and will 
never forsake you. 

"Why should I doubt his love at last, 

With anxious thoughts perplexed? 
Who saved me in the troubles past 

Will save me in the next. 
Will save — till at my latest hour, 

With more than conquest blest, 
I soar beyond temptation's power, 

And enter into rest." 

" Thou hast taught me from my youth: and hitherto 
have I declared thy wondrous ivories. Now also when I 
am old and gray -headed, God, forsake me not" Psa. 
lxxi. 17, 18. 

" Thou hast taught me from my youth." How 
encouraging it is to look back to our early life, and 
recognize the goodness of God in its varied events ! 
He was our Guide, our Instructor, our Father. He 
restrained us from evil ; counselled us in difficulty ; 
directed us in uncertainty; preserved us through 

* Isa. xli. 10. 



308 NEARING HOME. 

danger. All the knowledge which we have gained 
of his character, of his will, of ourselves, of futurity, 
he has communicated to us. And how gradual, how 
wise, how gentle are his teachings ! How patiently 
has he borne with our ignorance and forgetfulness ! 
how tenderly has he imparted his most difficult les- 
sons ! And though we have been dull and wayward 
scholars, though we have not profited as we might 
have done by his Divine instructions, yet we know, 
if we are disciples of Christ, that we have so learned 
of him as to find rest unto our souls. We have 
learned to rely upon his strength, to depend upon his 
faithfulness, to trust in his righteousness. 

" And hitherto have I declared thy wondrous 
works." Grateful for his favours towards us, we 
have striven to live to his praise and show forth his 
glory. It has been our aim to communicate to 
others the knowledge which we have received. We 
have spoken of his goodness to those around us. We 
have not been ashamed of his gospel, nor indifferent 
to his honour. 

" Wow also when I am old and gray-headed, God, 
forsake me not." " Those who have been taught of 
God from their youth, and have made it the business 
of their lives to serve and honour him, may be sure 
that he will not leave them when they are old and 



WORDS IN SEASON. 309 

gray-headed: lie is not a Master that is wont to cast 
off old servants." 

"In early years thou wast my guide, 
And of my youth the friend ; 
And as my days began with thee, 
With thee my days shall end. ' ' 

" And even to your old age I am He ; and even to hoar 
hairs will I carry you" Isa. xlvi. 4. 

Ah, Christian, here is ground for your confidence 
in God. You have his promise that he will be with 
you in your old age, to support you under its infir- 
mities, and therefore you are cheerful and tranquil. 
Listen to the testimony of an aged pilgrim : " What 
a comfort it is, as we get old and feeble, and friends 
drop off one after another, to remember that our God 
does not change ! He says to us, ' I am he ;' the 
same that I ever was ; 'I am he ;' the Lord who pre- 
served and guided you from your infancy ; * I am 
he :' all that I have promised to be to you, all that 
you can possibly need. ' And even to hoar hairs will 
I carry you.' What tender and expressive language ! 
How can we help trusting in such a mighty and lov- 
ing Friend ? Whether we look at the present or the 
future, there is no room for fear. Those who can 
walk have his rod and staff to help and comfort 
them ; and those who cannot walk find that his ever- 



310 NEARING HOME. 

lasting arms are beneath them, and that they are 
borne safely onwards. We are like children, who, 
when they are weak and tired, are carried in a 
father's arms, and lifted over difficulty and danger." 

"Fear not, I am with thee ; oh, be not dismayed f 
I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid ; 
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, 
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand. 

E'en down to old age all my people shall prove 
My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love ; 
And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn, 
In the arms of my mercy they still shall be borne.' ' 

" The hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found 
in the way of righteousness.'''' Prov. xvi. 31. 

Old age is honourable, and commands respect. 
" Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and hon- 
our the face of the old man."* But we cannot ex- 
pect to receive true and lasting deference from others 
unless our character is calculated to win their esteem. 
Superiority in age should be combined with supe- 
riority in excellence. Multitude of years should teach 
wisdom. " The hoary head is a crown of glory, if" 
— mark that — " if it be found in the way of right- 
eousness." If it be found in the way of wickedness, 
its honour is forfeited, its crown profaned and laid in 

* Lev. xix. 32. 



WOWS IN SEASON. 311 

the dust. How is it with you, reader ? Are you 
sanctified through faith in Christ? are you " walking 
in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord 
blameless ?"* Oh, how lovely and dignified is old 
age when marked by piety and consistency ! 

' l When piety adorns declining years, 
The hoaiy head a glorious crown appears ; 
A dignity no earthly rank bestows 
Marks the believer then ; and sweet repose 
Is stamped upon his features ; all who gaze 
Revere his person, and his virtues praise." 

" Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both 
sure and steadfast, and which enter eth into that within 
the veil" Heb. vi. 19. 

A vessel was driving ashore. Her anchors were 
gone, and she refused to obey the helm. A few mo- 
ments more and she would strike. If any should be 
saved, they must be tossed by the waves on the 
beach. In the midst of the general consternation 
there was one person quite calm. He had done all 
that a man could do to prepare for the worst when 
the wreck was inevitable ; and now that death was 
apparently near he was quietly waiting the event. A 
friend of his asked the reason of his calmness in the 
midst of danger so imminent : 

* Luke i. 6. 



312 NEABING HOME. 

" Do you not know that the anchor is gone, and 
we are drifting upon the coast ?" 

" Certainly I do ; but I have an anchor to the soul." 
On this was his trust. It entered into that within 
the veil. It was the ground of his confidence in the 
storm, and enabled him to ride securely in the view 
of instant and awful death. 

Have you this anchor, reader? Is the hope 
of the gospel yours ? Amidst the storms and trials 
of life, and in the prospect of danger and death, 
are you calm and trustful, assured that you will 
soon be admitted into the haven of everlasting 
peace ? 

Or are you destitute of this hope ? Without it, 
how can you be happy ? Without it, what will you 
do in the swellings of Jordan ? It may be yours — 
yours even now — if you will seek it, if you will ac- 
cept it. The gift of God is eternal life. Confidence 
in "him — faith in Christ — will link your tempest- 
tossed, troubled, and perishing spirit with perpetual 
repose and security — with the unseen glories of 
heaven. 

"How still, amidst commotion, 
The bark at anchor cast! 
Around her heaves the ocean, 
The anchor holds her fast. 



WORDS IN SEASON. 313 

So hope, an anchor of the soul, 

How steadfast, to the saint is given : 
Though waves of trouble round him roll, 

His hope is fixed in heaven." 

" They shall still bring forth fruit in old age" Psa. 
xcii. 14. 

The palm tree, to which God's people are in this 
psalm compared, is remarkable for its lengthened and 
increasing fruitfulness. The best dates are said to be 
gathered when it has reached a hundred years. How 
beautiful an emblem of the aged believer, growing in 
grace and maturing in holiness to the close of his 
earthly existence ! Each day, each year, added to his 
life, adds to the loveliness and perfection of his Chris- 
tian virtues. His character has a mellowness and 
sweetness which it lacked in earlier seasons. He is 
ripening for heaven. In knowledge, in wisdom, in 
love, in humility, in gentleness, in forbearance, in 
peace, in usefulness, in happiness, he is steadily and 
constantly advancing. He is filled with the Spirit, 
and therefore brings forth the fruits of the Spirit. 

Is this portraiture of an aged Christian yours, 
reader ? Alas, it does not belong to all who profess 
and call themselves by the Saviour's name. Nay, it 
may be feared that there are some, really and mani- 
festly his, to whom it bears but little resemblance. 

40 



314 NEABING HOME. 

They have long been "planted" in the house of the 
Lord, but they do not appear to " flourish" in the 
courts of our God ; and as years augment they seem 
to imagine that the infirmities of age are excuses for 
their little fruitfulness. But they certainly never 
gathered such an idea from God's word, nor rightly 
studied and pleaded his promises to themselves. 
Follow not their example. Rest not satisfied with 
past attainments. Strive to glorify God more than 
you have ever yet done. Let your last days be your 
best days ; your latest fruit, the richest. " And this I 
pray, that your love may abound yet more and more 
in knowledge and in all judgment; that ye may ap- 
prove things that are excellent ; that ye may be sin- 
cere and without offence till the day of Christ ; being 
filled with the fruits of righteousness, which are by 
Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God."* 

" How beautiful to see 
The clustered fruit upon the bending tree ! 
Yet lovelier still the graces which adorn 
The soul that's heaven-born. 
And age does not diminish, but increase 
The precious fruits of love, and joy, and peace, 
And gentleness, and patience ; at life's close 
Each Christian virtue more luxuriant grows." 

* Phil. i. 9-11. 



WORDS IN SEASON. 315 

" My times are in thy hand." Psa. xxxi. 15. 

Then I am sure that they will be wisely ordered. 
Thou hast all power in heaven and in earth ; thou 
art acquainted with the end from the beginning ; 
everything is subject to thy control, and the future 
to thee is as the present ; therefore there can be no 
mistake in thy purposes — no imperfection in thy 
plans. 

" My times are in thy hand" Then I will not be 
anxious nor distressed about the future. Varied may 
be the times which I have yet to experience — times 
of sorrow or joy ; of poverty or plenty ; of sickness 
or health ; of life or death ; but I can calmly leave 
them to thy disposal. I cannot foresee the events 
which thy providence appoints, but I can wait and 
trust. The period and the manner of my departure 
hence are unknown to me, but I am free from all 
solicitude on these points, because thou hast arranged 
them for the best. 

"My times are in thy hand; the night, the day, 
The moon's pale glimmering, and the sunny ray 
Are thine ; and thine the midnight of the grave. 
Oh, be thou there to strengthen and to save — 
To light death's valley with thy beam of love, 
And smile a welcome to thy throne above. ' ' 

"Bless the Lord, my soul: and all that is within 



316 NEARING HOME. 

me, bless Ms holy name : Bless the Lord, my soul; and 
forget not all his benefits." Psa. ciii. 1, 2. 

How animating is the sight of an aged Christian, 
who is rejoicing in hope of the glory of God, and 
furnishing, by daily conduct, a bright example to 
others of cheerfulness and gratitude ! His life is a 
psalm of thanksgiving ; his happy look and thankful 
spirit fill his home with sunshine, and cast their 
radiance on all around him. It is impossible to 
be long in his society without feeling gladdened 
and invigorated by it. You can scarcely tell why, 
but you feel less disposed to complain, and more in- 
clined to rejoice, than you did before. Your own 
path seems to grow more hopeful and promising; 
you are reminded of mercies which you had hitherto 
forgotten ; and the troubles which you thought so 
heavy insensibly grow lighter. The fact is, that for 
a time at least you have caught his spirit and im- 
bibed his tone of mind. 

A lovely instance of real and sustained cheerful- 
ness was the late justly celebrated William Wilber- 
force. "A stranger might have noticed that he was 
more uniformly cheerful than most men of his time 
of life. Closer observation showed a vein of Chris- 
tian feeling, mingling with and purifying the natural 
flow of a most happy temper ; whilst those who lived 



WORDS IN SEASON. 317 

most continually with him could trace distinctly in 
his tempered sorrows, and sustained and almost 
childlike gladness of heart, the continual presence of 
that peace which the world can neither give nor take 
away. The pages of his later journal are full of 
bursts of joy and thankfulness ; and with his children 
and his chosen friends his full heart swelled out 
ever in the same blessed strains; he seemed too 
happy not to express his happiness ; his song was 
ever of the loving-kindness of the Lord." Every- 
thing became with him a cause for thanksgiving. 
When some of the infirmities of years began to 
press upon him, " What thanks do I owe to God," 
was his reflection, " that my declining strength ap- 
pears likely not to be attended with painful diseases, 
but rather to lessen gradually and by moderate de- 
grees ! How good a friend God is to me ! When I 
have any complaint, it is always so mitigated and 
softened as to give me scarcely any pain. 'Bless the 
Lord, my soul.' What thanks do I owe to my 
gracious and kind heavenly Father !" And so, when 
one of his friends had passed through a painful 
operation, " Seldom," he says, " have I felt anything 
so deeply. How thankful should I be to be spared 
such trials, my strength not being equal to them ! I 
humbly commit myself unto Him who surely has 



318 NEABING HOME. 

given me reason to say, ' G-oodness and mercy have 
followed me all my days.' " 

Aged Christian, do you sympathize with these 
feelings? do you share this thankfulness? do you 
manifest this gladness ? " The fruit of the Spirit is 
love, joy, peace."* Every allowance must be made 
for natural temperament. Some persons are natu- 
rally sanguine and cheerful; others are naturally 
gloomy and desponding. But, in either case, the 
promises of the gospel, if simply believed and 
heartily appropriated, cannot fail to gladden the 
heart and influence the conduct. And it is no less 
our duty than our privilege to "rejoice in the Lord 
alway;" to "show forth his loving-kindness in the 
morning, and his faithfulness every night ;" to " be 
thankful unto him, and bless his name."* We must 
cultivate this joyous and grateful frame of mind ; we 
must strive by meditation, practice, and prayer to 
acquire or to strengthen it ; for we ought no more to 
dishonour Grod by our unhappiness and unthankful- 
ness than by our unholiness. 

The weakness and the infirmities of old age some- 
times tend to depress our spirits and dim our hopes. 
Therefore let us be upon our guard ; and instead of 
giving way to discontent and despondency, let us 

* G-al. v. 22. t Psa. xcii. 2; c. 4. 



WORDS IN SEASON. 319 

count up our mercies, and look more steadfastly on 
the bright side of things ; and as often as we do this 
sadness will be chased from our brow, and the self- 
exhortation to praise will burst from our lips : " Bless 
the Lord, my soul : and all that is within me, bless 
his holy name. Bless the Lord, my soul, and for- 
get not all his benefits." 

' ' Farewell to sadness, 
Let every tear depart ; 
"Wake all to gladness, 
Wake, my heart ! 
Shall worldly triflers raise the song 
O'er pleasures they must lose ere long? 
And shall not those rejoice and sing 
Who love the heavenly King ? 
Let saints on earth unite their voice 
With saints that round the throne rejoice ; 
And here begin the song that through 
Eternal years is new.'' 

u Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man 
is renewed day by day. 11 2 Cor. iv. 16. 

" We must, of necessity," says a celebrated writer, 
" become better or worse as we advance in years. 
Unless we endeavour to spiritualize ourselves, and 
supplicate in this endeavour for that grace which is 
never withheld when it is sincerely and earnestly 
sought, age bodylizes us more and more, and the older 



320 NEARING HOME. 

we grow the more are we imbruted and debased ; — 
so manifestly is the text verified which warns us that, 
4 Unto every one which hath shall be given ; and 
from him that hath not, even that he hath shall be 
taken away.'* In some the soul seems gradually to 
be absorbed and extinguished in its crust of clay ; in 
others, as if it purified and sublimed the vehicle to 
which it was united. Nothing therefore is more 
beautiful than a wise and religious old age ; nothing 
so pitiable as the latter stages of mortal existence, 
when the world, and the flesh, and that false philos- 
ophy which is of the devil, have secured the victory 
for the grave." 

Aged Christian, thank Grod for the strengthening 
and invigorating grace which he imparts to you. 
Your earthly frame is weak and enfeebled; it has 
lost its vigour and elasticity ; it is harassed with pain 
and infirmity; it must soon die. But while your 
body decays your soul thrives. If the one is pre- 
paring for the grave, the other is ripening for glory. 
Your faith grows firmer, your hope stronger, your 
love deeper, your views clearer. 

The soul's poor cottage, battered and decayed, 

Lets in new light through chinks which time hath made. 

"For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, 

* Luke xix. 26. 



WORDS IN SEASON. 321 

worJcetli for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight 
of glory. 11 2 Cor. iv. 17. 

" In visiting," writes a clergyman, " a poor man 
who has been bed-ridden these twenty-five years, I 
was preparing to pity him, but he called on me to 
rejoice. "Are you not wearied out with the length 
of your afflictions?" "Wearied, sir!" said he; " no> 
nature will soon faint, but God sustains me. I could 
lie here for another twenty-five years, if it pleased 
Grod. I have found this bed to be the very gate of 
heaven. Length of my affliction, sir! Oh, let me 
not call it long : it is short, very short, and will soon 
be over. These light afflictions, which are but for a 
moment, work for me a far more exceeding and 
eternal weight of glory. Is not Glod all love ? He 
cannot then be unkind. Is he not all wise? He 
cannot then do wrong. Are not his promises yea and 
amen in Christ Jesus ? He cannot then break his 
word. None who have trusted him have repented 
of it. Oh, sir, I dare not complain. My affliction 
is a mercy." 

Troubled and afflicted Christian, remember, the 
troubles of earth will enhance the joys of heaven. 
And, compared with that weight of glory which is 
prepared for you above, are not your sorrows light ? 
Measured by the eternity of the happiness you an- 

41 



322 NEABING HOME. 

ticipate, is not their duration that of a moment? 
Murmur not at the present; think of the future. 
How striking the contrast! how glorious the change! 

"The gloom of the night adds a charm to the morn ; 

Stern winter the spring-time endears ; 
And the darker the clouds on which it is drawn, 

The brighter the rainbow appears ; 
So trials and sorrows the Christian prepare 

For the rest that remaineth above ; 
On earth tribulation awaits him, but there 

The smile of unchangeable love." 

"Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out. 11 
John vi. 37. 

During his last hours a highly distinguished writer 
called for his chaplain and said, " Though I have en- 
deavoured to avoid sin and please God to the utmost 
of my power, yet I am still afraid to die." 

" My lord," said the chaplain, "you have forgotten 
that Jesus Christ is a Saviour." 

"True," was the answer; "but how shall I know 
that he is a Saviour for me? 1 

" It is written, my lord, ' Him that cometh to me I 
will in no wise cast out.' " 

" Yes, it is I" was the quick reply ; " and I am sur- 
prised that though I have read that Scripture a thou- 
sand times over, I never felt its virtue till this mo- 
ment ; and now I die happy." 



WORDS IN SEASON. 323 

Reader, are you coming to the Saviour? Then 
this promise is yours. 

"Jesus, the sinner's friend, to thee, 
Lost and undone, for aid I flee ; 
Ah, wherefore did I ever doubt ? 
Thou wilt in no wise cast me out. ' ' 

" When a few years are come, then I shall go the way 
whence I shall not return." Job xvi. 22. 

An approaching journey lies before me. I have 
to pass from time to eternity ; from this world to the 
next. And the time of my departure, although to 
me uncertain, cannot be very far distant. A few 
years — perhaps a few days — will close my stay on 
earth. 

It is an unavoidable journey. I must go. There 
is no choice. Willing or unwilling, when the sum- 
mons for me arrives, I shall have to set off. 

It is an unknown journey. I have never taken it 
before. I have no practical acquaintance with the 
road, the mode of transit, the dangers or the discom- 
forts which await me. And there is no one who can 
clearly explain them to me. Those of my friends 
who have travelled that way have never come back 
to relate their experience. 

It is a solitary journey. I must accomplish it 
alone. The most loved of my present companions 



324 NEARING HOME. 

cannot accompany me. They may think of me, feel 
for me, pray for me, but they cannot be with me. 
We must separate ; they to remain behind, I to go 
forward. 

It is a momentous journey. For at its termination 
I enter upon my everlasting destiny. It will convey 
me either to the mansions of happiness or to the 
abodes of misery. The narrow boundary between 
the present and the future state once crossed, there 
will be no possibility of change. " He that is unjust, 
let him be unjust still ; and he that is righteous, let 
him be righteous still." Rev. xxii. 11. 

It is a final journey. I shall go the way whence I 
shall not return. My pilgrimage will be for ever 
ended. No more parting, no more change, no more 
toil, no more fatigue. It will be my last journey. 

And if I am a Christian how welcome is this fact ! 
I shall have done for ever with sin and sorrow. 
Eternal felicity will be mine — perfect holiness, per- 
fect happiness. This journey leads me to my home, 
to my father's house, to my everlasting rest. 

Then I will not shrink from its approach, nor com- 
plain of its accompaniments. It may be linked with 
much that is painful and unpleasant, but it is the 
only way home ; and therefore, although life has many 
ties and many joys, I feel an earnest desire to depart 



WORDS IN SEASON. 325 

and be with Christ, which is far better than being 
here. 

Death is a solemn journey, but it is a safe one to 
Christ's people ; for he will not only receive and wel- 
come them at its close, but he will be them as they 
are passing through it. Oh, it will not be lonely 
with him ! And he is a guide who is well acquainted 
with the way, for he has trodden it himself, and the 
marks of his footsteps are visible there still. He 
went for the purpose of smoothing its difficulties, 
clearing its dangers, dispersing its terrors ; and he 
fully accomplished his purpose : " That through death 
he might destroy him that had the power of death, 
that is, the devil ; and deliver them who through fear 
of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage."* 
Therefore when I walk through the dark valley, I 
will fear no evil ; for thou, Jesus, wilt be with me, 
and thy rod and thy staff shall comfort me. 

" The spirit shall return unto God who gave it. 11 
Eccles. xii. 7. 

Not to a stranger, not to an unknown, untried 
master ; but to Him who has preserved and watched 
over it from year to year ; to him who knows its 
struggles, its anxieties, its throbbings of hope and 
fear; to its own Glod, even the "Grod who gave it;" 
* Heb. ii. 14, 15. 



326 NEABING HOME. 

nay, more, who gave for it his only and well-beloved 
Son. Therefore, Christian reader, you need not fear 
to depart. Does the child dread to return home, to 
go back to its loving parents ? Oh, happy moment ! 
when you shall be admitted into your heavenly Fa- 
ther's presence, and shall share in those pleasures 
which are at his right hand for evermore! 

"Away, thou dying saint, away! 
Fly to the mansions of the blest ; 
Thy God no more requires thy stay; 
He calls thee to eternal rest. 

"Thy toils, at length, have reached a close; 
No more remains for thee to do ; 
Away, away to thy repose, 
Beyond the reach of sin and woe. 

"Away to yonder realms of light, 

Where multitudes redeemed with blood 
Enjoy the beatific sight, 
And dwell for ever with their God." 



mfct jpristian's %Mo$t* 

FROM THE GERMAN, 

Deae Saviour, when I here am blest 
With prospect of that future rest 

Thy people shall inherit, 
And there, by faith, see my abode ; — 
How light my cares ! — and all their load — 

How easy 'tis to bear it ! 
Then, too, the fond pursuits of earth 
Are in my view as nothing worth ; — 
Chased by the dawn of endless day, 
Its glories pass like dreams away. 
Lord Jesus Christ, sure ground of faith, 
All this is owing to thy death. 

When called the change of worlds to make 
My soul shall from its fetters break — 

Thou, from on high, be near me ! 
Thy rod and staff be then my stay — 
Through Death's dark valley guide my way,- 

With hopes of glory cheer me ! 

* Translated by Dr. Mills. 

327 



328 NEARING HOME. 

The splendours of the world of light, 
Amid the all-surrounding night, 
Shall through the clouds of darkness shine, 
Revealing what shall soon be mine. 
Lord Jesus Christ, with cheerful faith, 
I then shall sweetly sleep in death. 

But should my heart, reluctant, shrink, 
The cup of Death still fear to drink, 

My sins begin to number ; 
Then come the thought — "My Lord has died, 
My sins — atoning blood shall hide, 

Nor Grod will more remember !" 
The hope, for sinners thou hast wrought, 
Of life, — with nameless sorrows bought, 
Which, Grod-forsaken, thou didst meet, — . 
'Tis this alone makes dying sweet. 
Lord Jesus Christ, my only faith, 
Do not forsake me at my death ! 

In hope my weeping eyes I'll close, 
My flesh in earth shall find repose, 

Where my Redeemer rested : 
And he that died, from death to save, — 
His voice will call me from the grave, — 

I know whom I have trusted. 



THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE. 329 

He lives ! — and foes I feared below, — 

The Grave and Death — his power shall know ; 

He lives ! — and I, with saints above, 

Shall know the wonders of his love. 

Lord Jesus Christ, my spirit's faith, 

For life prepare me by my death ! 

My confidence shalt thou remain 
Till thou on earth appear again — 

The tombs be rent asunder : 
Before thy throne I there shall be, 
The Judge of all the nations see — 

Shall see with joy and wonder. 
Then will thy grace to me divide 
A portion always to abide, 
And I shall share, by promise shown, 
A glory lasting as thy own. 
Thanks, Lord, to thee ! — with shouts I'll sing, 
"Where, Grave, thy victory? — Death, thy sting?" 

42 



PHILIP DODDRIDGE, D. D. 

While on the verge of life I stand, 
And view the scenes on either hand, 
My spirit struggles with its clay, 
And longs to wing its flight away. 

Where Jesus dwells my soul would be, 
It faints my much-loved Lord to see ; 
Earth, twine no more about my heart, 
For 'tis far better to depart. 

Come, ye angelic envoys, come, 
And lead the willing pilgrim home ; 
Ye know the way to Jesus' throne, 
Source of my joys and of your own. 

That blessed interview how sweet, 
To fall transported at his feet ; 
Raised in his arms, to view his face, 
Through the full beamings of his grace. 

330 



THE VERGE OF LIFE. 331 

To see heaven's shining courtiers round, 
Each with immortal glories crowned ; 
And, while his form in each I trace, 
Beloved and loving all to embrace. 

As with a seraph's voice to sing : 
To fly as on a cherub's wing ; 
Performing, with unwearied hands, 
A present Saviour's high commands ! 

Yet, with these prospects full in sight, 
I'll wait thy signal for my flight ; 
For, while thy service I pursue, 
I find my heaven begun below. 



332 



HORATIUS BONAR. D. D. 

No shadows yonder ! 

All light and song ; 
Each day I wonder, 

And say how long 
Shall time me sunder 

From that dear throng ? 

No weeping yonder ! 

All fled away ; 
While here I wander 

Each weary day, 
And sigh as I ponder, 

My long, long stay. 

No partings yonder ! 

Time and space never 
Again shall sunder ; 

Hearts cannot sever ; 
Dearer and fonder, 

Hands clasp for ever. 



YONDER. 333 

None wanting, yonder ! 

Bought by the Lamb ! 
All gathered under 

The evergreen palm ; 
Loud as night's thunder 

Ascends the glad psalm. 



m fflb to Ije f|s*fitl. 



ANONYMOUS. 



" Well, it is a pleasant sight to see young people 
actively engaged in doing good !" said an old lady, as 
she watched from her parlour window some of her 
grand-children setting forth on their weekly errands 
of mercy to the poor and afflicted. 

Yes ; it was a pleasant sight to look upon these 
youthful Christians, full of health and energy, devot- 
ing their time and their talents to the service of God 
and the welfare of their fellow-creatures ; and yet 
the old lady sighed as she finished her sentence, and 
did not seem quite comfortable. Why ? Listen to 
what she is saying now : 

"Ah, I was once as busy as any of them. I could 
take a class in the Sunday-school, and visit the poor, 
and collect for the missionary society ; but now I am 
forced to be idle and useless. My strength and my 
senses are gradually forsaking me ; and I am but a 
worn-out and unprofitable servant. But come, I 
must not complain ; I have had my share in these 



334 



TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 335 

good works in bygone days, and I must be content 
to lie by now and let others labour ; for I am too old 
to be of any use." 

Was the old lady right? She meant what she 
said, and she meant well. She was trying to bear 
with patience and resignation her unavoidable exclu- 
sion from- the charitable engagements of her young- 
relatives ; but old people as well as young sometimes 
have mistaken ideas ; and it is possible that the old 
lady was not quite so clear upon the subject of Chris- 
tian usefulness as we should like our readers to be. 

It is true that the aged cannot work in Grod's vine- 
yard as they used to do before infirmity or ill-health 
disabled them for active service, but still they are 
not too old to be useful. 

Too old to be useful ! Such words are a libel upon 
their characters — an insult to their capabilities. It 
cannot be that any Christian is continued upon 
earth who has not something to do as well as to suf- 
fer for his Master. Look at the closing days of the 
venerable Eliot, the first missionary to the American 
Indians. On the clay of his death, when in his 
eightieth year, he was found teaching the alphabet to 
an Indian child at his bedside. "Why not rest from 
your labours, now?" said a friend. "Because," said 
the venerable man, " I have prayed to God to make 



336 NEABING HOME. 

me useful in my sphere, and he has heard my 
prayer; for now, that I can no longer preach, he 
leaves me strength enough to teach this poor child 
this alphabet." 

Eighty years of age and bed-ridden ! Who after 
this can plead their inability to do good ? Who will 
not rather gather up their remaining time and talents 
and devote them to God's service? Like the widow's 
mite, your offering may seem poor and small ; you 
are almost ashamed to cast it into the treasury ; but 
bring it without hesitation — nay with gladness. What 
could give you more ? it is your all ; and your feeble 
efforts will meet with kind and gracious acknow- 
ledgment from a loving Saviour, who said, "She hath 
done what she could !"* 

Oh, it is so delightful to labour for Christ that the 
true-hearted Christian would fain keep on as Eliot 
did to the last. The late Rev. John Campbell, of 
Kingsland, went one morning to attend an early 
committee meeting of a religious society. On his 
way up-stairs he found an old friend, remarkable for 
his devotedness to the cause of Christ, leaning on 
the balustrade which led to the room, and unable to 
proceed from a difficulty of breathing. 

"What! are you here, Mr. T ? How could 

* Mark xiv. 8. 



TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 337 

you venture in your state of health? You have 
attended our meetings for a long time, and you 
should now leave the work for younger men." 

His friend looked up with a cheerful smile, and 
replied, with characteristic energy, " Oh, Johnny, 
Johnny, man, it is hard to give up working in the 
service of such a Master." 

How cheering then is the thought that the aged 
have still opportunities of usefulness afforded them !' 
Suppose we remind our readers of a few ways in 
which they have it in their power to benefit others. 

Well, some of you, perhaps, who cannot walk 
about and visit your neighbours, might send them a 
little tract and book occasionally. A person dies in 
your street — a child is born in the next house — a 
worldly family opposite are in trouble — a gentleman 
has met with an accident — a grocer's shop is open on 
the Sunday ; — all these, and many others, are occa- 
sions when "a little messenger of mercy" might 
speak " a word in season." Listen to the following- 
fact: 

A man who was keeper of one of the locks on the 
Grand Junction Canal lived for many years appa- 
rently without any religious feelings. He possessed 
much personal kindness, and had been the means of 
saving at least twelve persons from a watery grave, 

43 



338 NEARING HOME. 

some of whom had plunged into the stream in sea- 
sons of frantic sorrow. In the summer of 1841 
poor Matthew met with a severe accident, and was 
removed to the London Hospital. After he had 
been there a few days, he received a letter by post — 
of which the following is a copy — enclosing a tract 
.entitled "To-day:" 

-" You have suffered greatly, my friend ; your poor 
body calls for help and sympathy, and in the hos- 
pitdi you are mercifully attended to, as you could not 
be at home. How is it with your precious soul? 
Are you fit to die ? Had your sufferings caused in- 
stant death, where would your soul have been? 
Where, my friend ? Where ? In heaven, or in hell? 
Do think of this inquiry, and read the tract I en- 
close, or get some one to read it to you. Do not 
neglect this friendly warning, but attend to it while 
it is yet with you called ' To-day.' Oh ! what a mercy 
you were spared yet a little longer ! May it be for the 
salvation of your precious soul. The Lord Jesus is 
able and willing to save all who feel their need of his 
salvation. Pray, then, afflicted friend, for the Holy 
Spirit to show you your need of mercy, and of the 
precious blood of the Lord Jesus Christ to cleanse 
you from your sins, and to obtain your acceptance 
with God. This tract was written by a gentleman 



TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 339 

seventy years old. May the Lord make it a blessing 
to your soul. He is able and willing to save you 
from going to bell, and willing to prepare you for 
the holiness and happiness of heaven. — Farewell." 

There was no signature to the letter ; it bore the 
" Stroudwater" postmark, but Matthew knew no one 
residing there. However, the perusal of the letter 
induced him to read the tract; the Holy Spirit 
blessed it to his conversion ; and he became a con- 
sistent Christian. He wished very much that he 
could find out who had sent him the tract ; and a 
kind friend to whom this interesting fact was men- 
tioned thought that he knew the person from whom 
it came. He wrote accordingly, and received the 
following note, which proved that his conjecture was 
right : 

" My dear sir : It was in hours of weakness, and 
during a long detention from the house of the Lord, 
that I was directed one Sabbath-day to write the 
letter to which you refer, to poor Matthew. It used 
to be a saying with myself, to myself, on doing any 
such thing, ' Well, I have cast one grain more of 
the good seed of the kingdom into the field of the 
world — that world which still lieth in wickedness.' 
I bless the Lord he permitted me to cast in that 
grain, and I praise him still more that he caused it 



340 NEABING HOME. 

to germinate and bring forth fruit. Glory be to his 
holy name that he has seen fit to glorify the riches 
of his grace in the salvation of a soul by means in 
themselves so weak and poor. When I received the 
supply from London, of which that tract formed one, 
I selected a number of that description for the pur- 
pose of enclosing in letters (now in these days of 
penny-postage blessedness, in which in almost every 
letter we write we can proclaim the glad tidings of 
mercy, by inserting an eight-paged tract) — and among 
others, poor Matthew received one. Surely it would 
have been a shorter journey from Paternoster Row 
to the London Hospital ; but in this case it seemed 
needful that it should go from London to the coun- 
try, and back again to town, to reach the object for 
which it was designed. Several other such grains 
have been cast into the field of the world. Oh, that 
it may please the Lord to cause them to be fruitful 
also I" 

Now, reader, let the example of this pious invalid 
win you in some measure to follow it. It does not, 
you see, require much money, much talent, much in- 
fluence, or much strength to be useful. A few kind 
words written, or a good tract enclosed to an ac- 
quaintance or even to a stranger, may be the ap- 
pointed channel through which Grod's grace shall flow 



TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 341 

into their souls. " Cast thy bread upon the waters : 
for thou shalt find it after many days."* 

Then there is the influence which you may exert 
over children and young persons. "Not by fault-find- 
ing, or selfish requirements, or sarcastic observations ; 
but by kind words, persuasive advice, and affectionate 
treatment. Your little grand-children, or your elder 
nephews and nieces, as they cluster round your cheer- 
ful fireside, may drink in many a gentle lesson which 
shall guide them in after years. If you have not 
any youthful relatives, you can cultivate the acquaint- 
ance of the children of your friends and neighbours. 
It is a lovely sight to see age and youth sweetly 
blending together — age tempering the gayety of youth, 
and youth brightening the gravity of age. The ivy 
adorns the oak, and the oak supports the ivy. " But 
young people," you may say, " are so self-willed and 
conceited ; they think they are as wise as old folks." 
It is often too true, but bear with them ; we have all 
been young in our time ; and it is astonishing how 
grateful even the most independent among them are 
for a real and warm-hearted interest in their welfare. 
You may influence them strongly, if you are only 
kind in purpose and judicious in practice. 

Sympathize with them in their joys and their sor- 

* Eccles. xi. 1. 



342 NEABING HOME. 

rows. Show them that increase of years does not 
necessarily blunt the feelings or narrow the affec- 
tions ; that the pilgrim who has almost reached his 
welcome and long-expected resting-place does not 
forget or despise those who have but lately set out on 
their toilsome journey. Speak to them of your own 
experience of actual life ; of the mental and moral 
discipline which you have endured ; of the difficulties 
in the path of duty which you have met and con- 
quered ; of the comfort which has sustained you in 
the hour of trial and bereavement. Simple facts are 
more impressive than mere advice. Quietly but 
deeply they sink into the memory, arousing no op- 
position, exciting no argument ; in time of need they 
will be remembered and turned to good account. 
You may thus be the honoured instrument of guid- 
ing some wayward and careless heart to true peace 
and happiness ; of imparting right' principles which 
shall steer some perplexed spirit across the rough 
sea of temptation ; of forming the character of those 
who are destined in coming years to exercise great 
moral power over their fellow-creatures. You may 
not — you will not — live to behold those happy results 
of your patient and prayerful efforts ; but when those 
who die in the Lord rest from their labours, their 
works follow them. An aged man carefully planted 



TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 343 

several fruit-trees in his garden, that they might grow 
up for the use and benefit of posterity ; so may you 
cast into human hearts that precious seed which will 
germinate and spring forth and bless the world long- 
after you have departed to your rest. The destiny 
of future generations may be linked with your 
Christian endeavour to gather one youthful friend 
into the fold of the Saviour. God grant that you 
may fully appreciate and fulfil your peculiar mission 
to the young. 

But perhaps the best way in which the aged Chris- 
tian — aye, and any Christian — can benefit others is 
by the purity and loveliness of his example. You 
cannot now do much or say much for the good of 
your fellow- creatures ; but "nothing speaks so loudly 
as the silent eloquence of a holy and consistent life;" 
nothing exercises such gentle and yet such powerful 
influence over the mind as the example of one whom 
we love and respect. It is a practical and perpetual 
sermon. 

Look into that quiet and half- darkened room. In 
the large easy-chair sits an aged lady. She is con- 
fined by constant indisposition to her house — to her 
apartment; nay, even to her chair, for she cannot 
move herself without assistance. Her friends are 
forbidden to see her, as the least excitement proves 



344 NEARING HOME. 

injurious; and therefore a skilful nurse and a loving- 
hearted daughter are her only associates. But she 
does not wish for society ; incessant pain renders her 
unable to converse much, and the exertion of speak- 
ing but a few words fatigues her sadly. Poor lady ! 
the days have indeed come in which she has no 
pleasure ; the grasshopper is become a burden ; desire 
has failed ; and fears are in the w T ay. Her life has 
been a life full of good works ; and now, withdrawn 
for ever from her loved occupations, she must solace 
herself with the beautiful thought, 

" They also serve who only stand and wait." 

It is a beautiful thought ; she knows its truth ; she 
feels its preciousness ; her daily, constant prayer is, 
" Thy will be clone." Yet you must not imagine 
that her career of usefulness has ended — that it found 
its termination in that sick room. ~No ; in that 
limited sphere, during that lingering illness, she has, 
perhaps, done more good than you or I have effected 
in our lifetime. How? That kind servant who 
waits upon her has lately grown thoughtful and 
pious, and she traces the happy change in her views 
and in her feelings to the sweet example of her dear 
mistress ; not to her counsels, not to her persuasions, 
but to her example. She witnessed her patience, 



TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 345 

her fortitude, her serenity, her faith in Christ, her 
readiness to depart ; and she felt how valuable that 
religion must be which could give such peace in life, 
such hope in death. She determined, with God's 
help, to make that religion her own ; and now her 
mistress's last hours are cheered by the delightful 
knowledge that her grateful attendant has chosen 
that good part which shall not be taken away from 
her. 

Grlance now inside that lowly almshouse. There 
dwells a venerable man whose snow-white locks, 
bended frame, and tottering steps are plain indica- 
tions that his physical energies are rapidly declining. 
Is he too old or too infirm to be useful ? Almost, 
so far as active service is concerned, for he is both 
palsied and half blind ; but the light of his example 
shines brightly still, and sheds a holy radiance on 
all who come within its reach. His upright conduct, 
his cheerful demeanour, his kind feelings, and his 
heaven-like spirit are perpetual living lessons to his 
neighbours and friends. More than one thoughtless 
visitor has left his humble abode with the impression, 
" Well, there is such a thing as real religion ; I wish 
I were as good and as happy as that old man is." 
And many wavering or weary Christians have been 
strengthened for their earnest conflict through the 

44 



346 NEABING HOME. 

remembrance of the simple faith and devotedness of 
this aged servant of Grod. 

Does your life, your example, thus influence others 
for good ? Are you an epistle known and read of all 
men? Does your character and conduct commend 
the religion of Christ? Is it your daily endeavour 
to " adorn" as well as profess the doctrine of God 
your Saviour ? Every Christian should look well to 
his example ; it effects far more than his words, how- 
ever well-chosen and well-expressed those words may 
be. But especially should the aged believer be care- 
ful to let his light shine brightly and steadily before 
men, because his sphere of usefulness being limited, 
he should make the most of those means which are 
still within his reach ; and because soon, very soon, 
"the night cometh," and then his opportunities on 
earth will be closed for ever. 

There is one other way that we must not overlook 
in which the aged Christian may advance Christ's 
kingdom in the world, and that way is intercessory 
prayer. Weak and infirm, you may be unable to 
converse about religion; poor, perhaps, in this 
world's riches, it is not in your power to relieve the 
wants of the needy ; but amidst your feebleness and 
your poverty you can shut your door and pray to 
your Father who seeth in secret. You can implore 



TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 347 

his succour for the distressed ; his sympathy for the 
sorrowful; his aid for the helpless; his instruction 
for the ignorant ; his pardon for the sinful ; his grace 
for the undeserving. You can plead with him on 
behalf of the heathen at home and the heathen 
abroad. You can supplicate his blessing both for 
the queen upon her throne and the peasant in his 
cottage. You can beseech him to guide into the way 
of truth those who have erred and are deceived, and 
to have mercy upon all men. Abraham interceded 
for Sodom; Job for his children; Moses for the 
Israelites ; Jacob for his grandsons ; the disciples for 
their persecuted brethren ; the apostle for his beloved 
converts. Catch their spirit ; follow in their steps ; 
add to their success. " The effectual, fervent prayer 
of a righteous man availeth much."* It is impos- 
sible to tell how richly the healthful dew of God's 
grace may rest upon parched and barren hearts ; or 
how appropriately the gifts of his providence may 
be vouchsafed to the abodes of penury and want 
through the instrumentality of those heartfelt peti- 
tions which you offer at the throne of grace. Eter- 
nity alone will fully disclose the blessings which have 
been linked with intercessory prayer. 

Aged Christian! mourn not that your opportuni- 

* James v. 16. 



348 NEAEING HOME. 

ties of usefulness are so few ; rather rejoice that you 
are still permitted to have a place among the labour- 
ers in Christ's vineyard. Your department is a 
retired one; your employment is easy; but your 
path is marked out for you by the Master whom you 
serve. In wise considerateness he appoints to each 
labourer his position and his duties ; and to all who 
honestly perform the work which he assigns — be it 
great or be it small — he will address those gracious 
words of commendation, "Well done, good and faith- 
ful servant : — enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."* 

Yet you cannot but sigh sometimes when you 
reflect how little you are really able to do for the 
honour of God and the good of your fellow-men; 
your best services are so imperfect, your holiest 
efforts are so defiled. As life advances you grow 
better acquainted with your own motives, and more 
enlightened respecting God's character and will ; and 
the inevitable result is that you are humbled under 
the increasing consciousness of your sinfulness and 
your failures. Oh if you could but serve God as you 
desire to do! How unwearied, how unselfish, how 
unlimited would be your joyful obedience ! 

Wait awhile, and your longings shall be satisfied. 
In heaven there will be no feebleness to retard your 

* Matt. xxv. 23. 



TOO OLD TO BE USEFUL. 349 

efforts, no imperfection to sully your actions. "His 
servants shall serve him."* Without one difficulty 
or defect they shall fulfil his varied behests and do 
his will. And as angels are now ministering spirits 
for the heirs of salvation, it is not improbable that 
glorified Christians will be frequently engaged on 
some errand of love to God's intelligent creatures. 
How welcome is this idea to those who feel half sorry 
when they consider that their work on earth is so 
near its close ! 

* Kev. xxii. 3. 



JOHN WALTON. 

The seas are quiet when the winds give o'er ; 
So calm are we when passions are no more ; 
For then we know how vain it was to boast 
Of fleeting things, too certain to be lost. 

Clouds of affection from our younger eyes 
Conceal that emptiness which age descries ; 
The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, 
Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. 

Stronger by weakness, wiser men become 
As they draw near to their eternal home ; 
Leaving the Old, at once both worlds they view 
That stand upon the threshold of the New. 

350 



JfttHg flip*. 

ANONYMOUS. 

"Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of com 
cometh in his season." — Job v. 26. 

Long- standing in the Master's field, 

Fed daily by his sun and dew, 
Eager its best return to yield, 

To perfect symmetry it grew : 
The storm swept over it in vain, 

Nor frost could blight its noonday heat, 
Till, a fair shock of golden grain, 

It stood in perfectness complete, 

Fully ripe. 

Men saw, and gave to Grod the praise, 

Who smiled well pleased, and passed it by, 
Till in these later autumn days 

Its garner was prepared on high ; 
Then came the Reaper down at morn, 

Softly as feathery snow-flakes come, 
To gather in the golden corn, 

And bear the precious harvest home, 

Fully ripe. 

351 



352 NEABING HOME. 

Ah ! but the field is brown and bare, 

And heaven's great gain we grieve to lose, 
For in our eyes 'twas wondrous fair, 

While fitting for the Master's use ; 
And for the place left desolate, 

We needs must weep ; yet thanks be given, 
The treasure that we found so great 

Was for a better place in heaven, 

Fully ripe. 



Ip* Mont of fitp&rittrt. 

REV. JOHN LOGAN. 

The hour of my departure's come, 
I hear the voice that calls me home ; 
At last, Lord ! let trouble cease, 
And let thy servant die in peace. 

Not in mine innocence I trust ; 

I bow before thee in the dust ; 

And through my Saviour's blood alone 

I look for mercy at thy throne. 

I leave the world without a tear, 
Save for the friends I held so dear : 
To heal their sorrows, Lord, descend, 
And to the friendless prove a friend. 

I come, I come at thy command, 
I give my spirit to thy hand ; 
Stretch forth thine everlasting arms, 
And shield me in the last alarms. 

45 353 



354 NEABING HOME. 

The hour of my departure's come, 
I hear the voice that calls me home ; 
Now, my G-od, let trouble cease, 
Now let thy servant die in peace. 



itfto to Bit f^afelt). 



ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 



Can we do anything to render our death — which 
cannot be far off — both safe and comfortable ? No 
doubt, by Grocl's assistance, we can do much to ac- 
complish these desirable ends, if we will set about 
the work in good earnest. 

I know that there is a feeling of despondency 
habitually existing in the minds of some aged per- 
sons of serious disposition, which leads them to con- 
clude that if they are not now prepared to die they 
never will be. And from all the acquaintance which 
I have had with professors of religion, I am con- 
strained to think that, as their near approach to the 
grave does not increase their impressions of the 
importance of eternal realities, so old age has no 
tendency to render the evidences of their union with 
Christ more clear and satisfactory. You may fre- 
quently inquire of a dozen such professors in suces- 

*From "Letters to the Aged," published by the Presbyterian Board 
of Publication. 

355 



356 NEARING HOME. 

sion whether they have obtained a comfortable assu- 
rance of the goodness of their spiritual condition, 
and the probability is that four out of five, if not 
nine out of ten, will answer in the negative, and will 
express serious doubts whether they were ever the 
subjects of regenerating grace. 

It was not, I believe, always so with those who 
cordially received the doctrines of grace and rested 
their souls upon them. To say nothing about the 
joyful confidence and assured hope of the apostles 
and primitive Christians, the members of the first 
Reformed Churches seem to have derived from the 
pure doctrines of the Bible a high degree of peace 
and joy. The same was the fact among the pious 
Puritans of Old and New England, and the Presby- 
terians of Scotland in the best and purest days of 
the Scottish Church. The question has often occurred, 
why does the belief of these doctrines afford less 
comfort now than in former times? It is not my 
purpose at present to attempt to account for this 
fact. I adduce it merely to show that most profes- 
sors among us are not actually prepared for death. 
Even if their state should be one of safety, they can- 
not view their approaching end with confidence and 
comfort. And whilst their evidences of genuine 
piety are so dubious, they of course cannot know 



HOW TO DIE SAFELY. 357 

that they are in a safe condition. It is then of the 
utmost importance that all professors of the above 
description, and especially the aged, should be im- 
portunately urged " to give diligence to make their 
calling and election sure." I am aware that some 
Christians who enjoy very comfortable evidences of 
being the adopted children of God are not willing 
to profess that they have arrived at full assurance. 
They suppose that they who have attained to this 
high privilege are in a state of uninterrupted joy, 
and that no shadow of doubt ever passes over their 
minds. The truth is, they do possess a solid assu- 
rance, although their frames of mind are not always 
equally comfortable, and although the evidence is 
not so great that it cannot be increased. I recollect, 
when very young, to have heard a judicious minister 
conversing with an eminently pious old lady, who 
had belonged to the church under the care of the 
Rev. Samuel Davies, in the county of Hanover. In 
answer to some inquiry respecting the comfort which 
she enjoyed in the service of her divine Master, she 
said, after expressing lively feelings of faith, peni- 
tence and gratitude, " But, my dear friend, I have 
never yet attained to the faith of assurance ; all I can 
say is, that I have the faith of reliance." " Well," 
said the minister, " if you know that you have the 



358 NEABING SOME. 

faith of reliance, that is assurance." The degrees of 
evidence possessed by different Christians are vari- 
ous, from the feeblest hope up to strong confidence, 
and the clearness of the evidence to the same person 
varies exceedingly ; but in general there seems to be 
in our Church a sad falling below far in respect to 
this matter. It has, however, often been correctly 
observed that we are not to expect dying grace before 
the dying hour arrives. God gives strength as we 
need it ; and when the believer is called to severe 
trials or to difficult duties, he commonly receives 
aid proportioned to the urgency of his wants, and is 
surprised to find himself held up by a power not his 
own. Thus we have often seen the sincere, humble 
Christian, who, during life, was subject to bondage 
through fear of death, triumphing in the dying hour. 
This expectation of special aid ought to be encour- 
aged. It is, indeed, a part of that preparation which 
we should make ; and if we confidently rely on the 
great Shepherd to meet us and comfort us while 
walking through the valley and shadow of death, he 
will not disappoint us. 

But, in dealing with professors troubled with 
doubts, we are too apt to proceed on the assumed 
principle that, notwithstanding their sad misgivings 
and fears, they are at bottom sincere Christians, and 



HOW TO DIE SAFELY. 359 

have the root of the matter in them ; while in regard 
to many this may be an entire mistake, and we are 
in danger of cherishing in them a fatal delusion. 
Here the skill and fidelity of the spiritual watchmen 
are put to the test ; and while they should not devi- 
ate a hair's -breadth from the rule of the divine word, 
it is better that the pious Christian should suffer 
some unnecessary pain than that the false professor 
should be bolstered up with delusive hopes. I must 
say, therefore, that the true reason why many pro- 
fessors have no comfortable evidence of their re- 
ligion is because they have none. They have never 
experienced the new birth ; and being still dead in 
trespasses and sins, it is no wonder that they cannot 
find in themselves what does not exist. I abhor a 
censorious spirit, which, upon slight grounds, judges 
this and that professor to be graceless ; but all my 
experience and observation lead me to believe that 
in our day, as well as in former times, the " foolish 
virgins" constitute a full moiety of the visible 
Church. 

What I would urge, therefore, on you my aged 
friends, and on myself, is a more serious, impartial, 
and thorough examination into the foundation of our 
hope of heaven than perhaps we have ever yet made. 
Let us go back to the commencement of our religious 



360 NEABING HOME. 

course, and see whether in our present more mature 
judgment we can conclude that we were then the 
subjects of a saving change. I do not ask you 
whether you had an increase of serious feelings, or 
whether your sympathies were strongly excited and 
experienced some change from a state of terror or 
distress to comfort ; for all these things may be ex- 
perienced, and have been experienced, by unregener- 
ate persons. Let us carefully inquire whether the 
habitual tenour of our lives has been such as to satisfy 
us that a new nature was received. If we have fallen 
into sin, have we deeply and sincerely repented of it ? 
Have we wept bitterly for our sin, like Peter ? or 
have we mourned in deep sorrow, like David ? Not 
such repentance as some experience, who, after all 
their convictions and confessions, return again to the 
same course of iniquity. But, after all examinations 
of past experience, the main point is, What is the 
present habitual state of our hearts ? Do we now 
love God as his character is exhibited in his word ? 
Do we hunger and thirst after holiness or a complete 
conformity to the law of God ? Would we be willing 
that that law should be relaxed in its demands to 
afford us some indulgence t Do we seek our chief 
happiness in the favour of God, and in communion 
with him in his word and ordinances ? Is his glory 



HOW TO DIE SAFELY. 361 

uppermost in our desires, and do we sincerely wish 
and determine to do all that we can to promote the 
kingdom of the Redeemer? Do we sincerely love 
the people of God, of every sect and name, because 
they bear his image and are the redeemed children 
of God ? Again : what is the ground on which we 
expect the pardon of sin and the favour of God ? Is 
it because we are better than many others ? Is it 
because we have had what we esteem great experi- 
ences ? Is it on account of our moral demeanour or 
charitable benefactions ? Dare we trust in any mea- 
sure to our own goodness and righteousness ? If we 
build on any of these, or on any similar grounds, 
then are we on a sandy foundation, and all our tow- 
ering hopes must fall. 

But methinks I hear the humble penitent saying, 
" All these things I count loss for Christ — I feel that 
I deserve to die — I never was more convinced of 
anything than that it would have been perfectly just 
for God to send me to hell. And now all my trust 
and all my hope, if I know my own heart, is in the 
Lord Jesus Christ, and in his perfect righteousness 
and intercession ; and all my confidence of being able 
to serve God hereafter, or to persevere for a single 
day, is in the grace of the Holy Spirit. " The whole 
evidence of Christian character may be reduced to 

46 



362 NEABING HOME. 

two particulars — entire trust in Christ for justifica- 
tion, and a sincere and universal love of holiness, 
with a dependence on the Holy Spirit for its exist- 
ence, continuance and increase. If, my friend, you 
have these evidences now, you need not perplex your- 
self by a multitude of scruples. You may dismiss 
your doubts. God's word will never deceive any who 
rely upon its guidance. You may not know the day 
nor even the year when spiritual life commenced in 
your soul ; and yet, if you now feel its warm pulsa- 
tions — if you breathe its genuine aspirations — if your 
heart's treasures are in heaven, and if the cause of 
God is dearer to you than any other interest — if his 
people are dearer to you than any other people — if 
your most constant and supreme desire is to glorify 
God your Redeemer, whether by living or dying — 
then may you welcome death. He is no king of ter- 
rors to you. You may say, " Come, Lord Jesus, 
come quickly !" 

Perhaps some of you are afraid of the pangs of 
death. You have heard of the convulsive struggle — 
the dying groans — the difficult breathing — and the 
ghastly countenance. Well, it must be confessed, 
the scene is appalling ; but it is soon over, for ever. 
I am of opinion, however, that often there is the ap- 
pearance of dreadful suffering where the patient is 



HOW TO DIE SAFELY. 363 

unconscious of any very acute pain ; and very fre- 
quently the departure of the immortal spirit is, at the 
last, like falling into a gentle sleep. And not un- 
frequently, while the body is racked with pain, or 
with what would produce pain in other circumstances, 
the soul is so supported and comforted by the sweet 
peace of Grod poured into it, that the disorders and 
convulsions of the body are scarcely thought of. And 
in many instances Grod takes his people away by a 
sudden stroke; — they know nothing about it until 
they awake in heaven. Oh what a transition! Or, 
if it be necessary to let in the light of glory gradu- 
ally, Grod, who knows our constitution, will order all 
things well. 

I would advise you to meditate much on death. 
Collect and have in memory a number of precious 
promises for the occasion. Put up many prayers for 
grace and strength for a dying hour. Beg an interest 
in the intercessions of your Christian friends. Keep 
your minds calm, and yield not to perturbing cares. 
Be found at your post when the summons comes, 
with your loins girded and lights burning. 



But mdobti* \ttbt giejmrteir. 

FROM THE GERMAN OF J. LANGE. 

Our beloved have departed, 
While we tarry broken-hearted 

In the dreary, empty house ; 
They have ended life's brief story, 
They have reached the home of glory, 

Over death victorious ! 

Hush that sobbing, weep more lightly ; 
On we travel, daily, nightly, 

To the rest that they have found : 
Are we not upon the river, 
Sailing fast, to meet for ever 

On more holy, happy ground ? 

On we haste, to home invited, 
There with friends to be united 

In a surer bond than here ; 
Meeting soon, and met for ever ! — 
Glorious hope, forsake us never, 

For thy glimmering light is dear. 

364 



OUB BELOVED RAVE DEPABTED. 365 

Ah ! the way is shining clearer, 
As we journey ever nearer 

To the everlasting home. 
Comrades, who await our landing, 
Friends, who round the throne are standing, 

We salute you, and we come. 



rmfibtttts ht ©air. 



PAUL GERHARDT. 



Bitter anguish have I borne, 
Keen regret my heart hath torn, 
Sorrow dimmed my weeping eyes, 
Satan blinded me with lies ; 
Yet at last am I set free ; 
Help, protection, love to me 
Once more true companions be. 

Ne'er was left a helpless prey, 
Ne'er with shame was turned away, 
He who gave himself to God, 
And on him had cast his load. 

Who in Grod his hope hath placed 
Shall not life in pain outwaste ; 
Fullest joy he yet shall taste. 

Though to-day may not fulfil 
All thy hopes, have patience still ; 
For perchance to-morrow's sun 
Sees thy happier days begun. 

366 



CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 367 

As God willeth march the hours, 
Bringing joy at last in showers, 
And whate'er we asked is ours. 

When my heart was vexed with care, 

Filled with fears, wellnigh despair ; 

When, with watching many a night, 

On me fell pale sickness' blight ; 

When my courage failed me fast, 
Camest thou, my Grod, at last, 
And my woes were quickly past. 

Now as long as here I roam, 
On this earth have house and home, 
Shall this wondrous gleam from thee 
Shine through all my memory. 
To my God I yet will cling, 
All my life the praises sing 
That from thankful hearts outspring. 

Every sorrow, every smart, 

That the eternal Father's heart 

Hath appointed me of yore, 

Or hath yet for me in store, 

As my life flows on, I'll take 
Calmly, gladly for his sake — 
No more faithless murmurs make. 



868 NEARING HOME. 

■ ■' 

I will meet distress and pain, 

I will greet e'en death's dark reign, 

I will lay me in the grave 

With a heart still glad and brave. 

Whom the Strongest doth defend, 
Whom the Highest counts his friend, 
Cannot perish in the end. 



§t ||attks of t\t ||ib*r- 



ANONYMOUS. 



" Now I further saw that betwixt the pilgrims and 
the gate of the city was a river ; but there was no 
bridge to go over, and the river was very deep. At 
the sight of this river the pilgrims were much 
stunned; but the men that went with them said, 
' You must go through, or you cannot come at the 
gate.' The pilgrims then began to inquire if there 
was no other way to the gate ? to which they answered, 
' Yes ; but there hath not any, save two, Enoch and 
Elijah, been permitted to tread that path since the 
foundation of the world, nor shall until the last trum- 
pet shall sound.' The pilgrims then began to de- 
spond in their minds, and looked this way and that, 
but no way could be found by them, by which they 
might escape the river."* 

Ah, how true and how touching is this description 
of the emotions which are often excited in the Chris- 
tian pilgrim's breast as he stands on the banks of 

* Pilgrim's Progress. 
47 369 



370 NEABING HOME. 

the river ! He fears to cross its deep, dark waters ; 
lie shrinks from the strange, and, it may be, the 
stormy passage to eternity. Oh, if he could but 
reach the celestial city without having to cross the 
stream of death ! 

It cannot be. When the summons for his de- 
parture arrives, he must enter that cold flood and 
meet its terrors. None can disregard the call, nor 
choose any other mode of transit. "It is appointed 
unto men once to die."* 

Yet why should the Christian be afraid ? Solemn 
and mysterious as the last change undoubtedly is, 
even to the child of Grod, he may rest assured that a 
wise and loving Saviour will shield him from every 
danger, and guide him in safety through it. And if 
Christ himself is with him then, if his rod and staff 
support and comfort him, what evil can he fear ? 

Aged reader, as you gaze upon the river which 
rolls between you and the promised land, is your 
mind filled with gloom and apprehension? Is it not 
because you look only at death ? You do not at the 
same time 1ix the eye of faith upon your Saviour. 
You seem to think that, unaided and alone, you will 
have to struggle through its waves, instead of joy- 
fully remembering his promise, "When thou passest 

* Heb. ix. 27. 



THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 371 

through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through 
the rivers, they shall not overflow thee."* Oh ! he 
who lays hold upon this sweet assurance may safely 
shut his eyes, and leave himself to the entire disposal 
of infinite love, and faithfulness, and wisdom. 

Does nature recoil from the physical suffering of 
the last mortal conflict ? It is true that the pains 
of death are sometimes so severe as to occasion the 
deepest distress and anguish; but in the greater 
number of instances how easy and tranquil are the 
closing moments of life ! How many pass from time 
to eternity as calmly as an infant falling asleep on its 
mother's bosom ! But should it be otherwise — should 
your dying hour be one of extreme suffering — is not 
the manner as well as the time of your departure 
hence appointed by your heavenly Father ? and will 
he suffer you to be tried above that which you are 
able to bear ? He knows your frame ; he remembers 
that you are clust, and feels the tenderest parental 
compassion for those who fear him ; and therefore 
you may be assured that the trials which his love 
ordains, whether in life or in death, are necessary 
trials, and that he will give you support under them. 
And if your strength is proportioned to your burden, 
is it not the same in effect as if that burden were re- 

* Isa. xliii. 2. 



372 NEABING HOME. 

moved? Listen to the testimony of an eminent 
minister of Christ, whose sufferings were intense, but 
whose spirit was filled with rejoicing in the midst of 
them : "I have suffered twenty times, yes — to speak 
within bounds— twenty times as much as I could in 
being burnt at the stake ; but my joy in God so 
abounded as to render my sufferings not only toler- 
able, but welcome. The sufferings of the present 
time are not worthy to be compared with the glory 
that shall be revealed. God is my all. While he 
is present with me no event can in the least diminish 
my happiness ; and were the whole world at my feet 
trying to minister to my comfort, they could not add 
one drop to the cup. Death comes every night, and 
stands at my bedside in the form of terrible con- 
vulsions, until every bone is almost dislocated with 
pain ; yet while the body is thus tortured, the soul is 
perfectly happy and peaceful — more happy than I can 
possibly express to you." 

How easily might we multiply proofs like these — 
proofs of God so sustaining and elevating the soul of 
the believer above the pressure of physical suffering 
as that it was comparatively unheeded and unfelt ! 
And can he not do the same, reader, for you ? Is not 
his grace sufficient for you as well as for others ? Oh, 
trust yourself to him ; repose with confidence upon 



THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 373 

his promises ; and believe that in a dying hour, your 
succour shall be equal to your need. Do not test 
your preparedness for that hour by the strength and 
comfort which you now possess, but by the solemn 
engagement which Christ has made never to leave 
nor forsake you. He is with you now, to help you 
to glorify him by your life ; when death comes he 
will be with you then, and help you to glorify him 
by your death. Dying grace will not be vouchsafed 
until a dying hour ; you do not want it now, but it 
will be abundantly vouchsafed then. Wait for it in 
faith. "Death is somewhat dreary," said Bishop 
Cowper to his weeping friends, " and the streams of 
that Jordan which is between us and our Canaan 
run furiously; but they stand still when the ark 
comes." 

But perhaps your anxiety respecting death is 
occasioned by the thought of the separation which 
must take place between the soul and the body. You 
dread the entrance upon an unknown and untried 
state of existence. It is not what you know, but 
what you do not know of the future, which causes 
your distress. If any one could return from the un- 
seen world, and tell you exactly what he experienced 
in the moment of his departure from earth, and 
clearly describe to you the sensations which he felt 



374 NEABING HOME. 

when he found himself absent from the body, your 
mind, you think, would be relieved of much of its 
disquietude. But it is the uncertainty, the blank, 
the mystery lying before, in the awful distance, at 
which you tremble. Like a child in the dark, be- 
cause you cannot see, you are afraid. The imaginary 
objects which fill you with awe and trepidation would 
disappear if there were light enough to reveal to 
you the true state of things. Why, then, you ask, 
is that light withheld? Could not God have unfolded 
to us in his word the nature of our future existence, 
and the mode of our introduction to it ? He must 
have foreseen the suspense and the agitation which 
would arise through our ignorance, and yet he has 
not sought to allay our fears by a clearer and fuller 
revelation of things to come. Why is it ? The fact 
of God's silence upon this point is a sufficient reply. 
We may be sure, since he is Love, that the know- 
ledge which he has reserved is neither requisite nor 
desirable for us. It is probable that, in our present 
state of existence we could not comprehend more 
than he has already told us about another world, or 
the full blaze of light which we desire, had it been 
granted, might have proved injurious to us. We 
are as yet only in the infancy of our being, and do 
not know what is best for us ; but our Maker knows, 



THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 375 

and he has acted accordingly. "He has said enough 
to awaken curiosity, to enkindle desire, to inspire 
hope, to encourage confidence and expectation ; and 
we must wait for the rest. God calls us to honour 
him by our faith, by our belief, at all times and under 
all circumstances, in his wisdom and goodness. It 
is as though we were allowed to give to the universe 
a proof of the firmness of our dependence upon him, 
such as no heavenly spirits can give, to show that we 
are not afraid to trust him even when he bids us 
die." Oh, shall we not willingly prove how unshaken 
is our reliance on his love, by resigning ourselves in 
the hour of death, without one fear, to his care ? The 
way before us is dark and mysterious, but we will 
cheerfully follow where he leads us. And how 
gently, how tenderly will he lead us ! The act of 
dying which we so greatly fear may be a gentle and 
painless slumber — a quiet falling asleep in Christ ; 
and the light of eternity will dawn upon us like the 
tranquil beams of the morning which now gladden 
our waking eyes. 

"Hast thou ne'er looked on a little child 

When he first awakes from rest, 
And smiles to think how his dream beguiled 

While he slept on a parent's breast? 
So calm and so sweet shall the waking be 
In the radiant dawn of eternity. ' ' 



376 NEABING HOME. 

There is, it is true, something strange and inexpli- 
cable in the idea of our existence without a body; we 
are apt to fancy that a disembodied spirit must at 
first feel as it were unclothed and unprotected. But 
it is a mistake to suppose that the soul owes its 
defence from external harms and hardships to the 
body in the same manner as the body does to the 
clothes it wears. The very contrary is true. It is 
here exposed to many more harms and hardships by 
means of its union with the mortal body ; and, con- 
sequently, its disunion from that will be its freedom 
from them. The operations and conceptions of the 
liberated soul will be inconceivably more perfect, 
free, and unbiassed than they now are, while subject 
to so many impediments and interruptions from its 
connection with animal nature. This is evident from 
the fact that even now we find our soul in the best 
frame for thinking when it is least affected by the 
body. How rapid, how strong, how clear, then, will 
be the flow of its thoughts when they meet with 
nothing from without to obstruct them ! 

The dread of death, however, may arise from other 
causes. It may result from apprehensions as to our 
eternal happiness. We fear, sometimes, whether 
our names are written in the Lamb's book of life — 
whether we have any warrant to look forward to a 



THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 377 

participation in everlasting joys ; and therefore we 
cannot bear the thought of meeting our Judge face 
to face, and would fain retard the moment when our 
everlasting destiny must be fixed. Were we sure 
that there was a mansion prepared for us, and a 
crown of glory laid up for us in heaven, oh we 
should not mind passing through the river of death, 
even though its waters were deep and tempest- tossed. 
But how can we be sure ? 

What saith the Scripture ?— " There is now no 
condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus." 
" He that belie veth on the Son hath everlasting life." 
" I am the living bread which came down from hea- 
ven ; if any man eat of this bread he shall live for 
ever." "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, 
and they follow me : and I give unto them eternal 
life; and they shall never perish." "I will come 
again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, 
there ye may be also."* 

But precious as these assertions are, they do not 
exactly relieve our distress. Our fear is not whether 
true believers are everlastingly saved, but whether 
we are among their number. We hope we are, but 
it is so easy to deceive ourselves ; we may be mis- 
taken ; and how terrible to wake in eternity and find 

* Rom. viii. 7; John iii. 36; vi. 51 ; x. 27; xiv. 3. 
48 



378 NEARING HOME. 

ourselves excluded from the bliss of the redeemed, 
beyond the possibility of change ; for, what we are 
then, we must be for evei 

Our dread, then, of death — or rather of the conse- 
quences of death — may be traced to the weakness of 
our faith or to imperfect views of the gospel of Jesus 
Christ. It cannot, therefore, be removed until our 
faith becomes stronger and our views clearer. We 
must study the word which God has given us, and 
ask for the teaching of his Spirit, that we may be 
enabled to understand and to apply to ourselves the 
heart- cheering truth, "Christ is all, and in all;" "Ye 
are complete in him." We must strive to lay aside 
the reasonings, the prejudices, and the unbelief of our 
own hearts, and receive with simplicity and thank- 
fulness the full and free promises of our Saviour. 
As we become better acquainted with that loving 
Saviour, and understand more perfectly the design 
of his all-sufficient atonement, our anxious forebod- 
ings about the future will gradually pass away as 
the gloom of midnight fades before the rising sun, 
and the God of hope will fill us with all joy and 
peace in believing. 

It will tend to mitigate the alarm with which we 
regard the solemn change of death, if we look at it 
in its true character, as a continuance of the present, 



THE BANKS OF THE BIVEE. 379 

rather than as the commencement of a new state of 
existence. Heaven and hell are not so much the 
reward (using the word in its scriptural sense) of 
our past life as the necessary sequence of it. It will 
be what we are, not where we are, which will consti- 
tute our felicity or our woe ; and therefore if we are 
conscious now that we love the Saviour and trust in 
him, and follow after holiness, or even that we 
heartily desire and strive to do this, is it not plain 
that we have within us the germ of true happiness — 
a heart that is touched with the love of Christ, and 
longs for conformity to his likeness? With this 
principle implanted in our hearts, how could we be 
for ever miserable? It is impossible! not only 
because Grod will never falsify his own word, nor 
condemn those who put their trust in his Son, but 
because the elements of lasting peace and joy are 
already ours. " He that belie veth on the Son hath — 
not shall have — everlasting life." Meditate on this 
declaration, dear reader, and take the consolation 
which it is calculated to impart to all who are placing 
their reliance upon the atonement of Christ. 

But in the contemplation of a dying hour a tender 
and affectionate spirit is sometimes deeply affected at 
the prospect of parting with beloved relatives and 
friends. There are some, perhaps, to whom we are 



380 NEABING HOME. 

a solace and a support, who have always been 
accustomed to lean upon us in their weary march of 
life, and to look to us for counsel and sympathy; 
how will they do without us ? how can we leave 
them to struggle on alone and sorrowful ? Or there 
are others for whose salvation we are deeply con- 
cerned, and over whose wanderings we often shed 
bitter tears ; how shall we bear to take our farewell — 
it may be our last farewell — of them? How keen 
will be the anguish of our dying hour as we reflect 
that they are still unchanged, unsaved, and that we 
dare not cherish the hope of meeting them again ! 

Oh how painful are the separations of the grave ! 
How hard it is to sever, if only for a few years, the 
ties which bind us so closely to the dear ones around 
us ! Many Christians, aged Christians too — for old 
age does not quench the ardency of the affections — 
can respond to the touching desire of a youthful 
disciple of the Saviour: " Oh, mamma! I wish we 
could all die and go to heaven together." 

Yet why should you dwell only on the dark side 
of the picture ? It may never be presented to you. 
Your heavenly Father, in his compassion for your 
weakness, may spare you the sorrow which you 
anticipate. You may pass away from this life as in 
a quiet slumber. 



THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 381 

"Nor bear a single pang at parting ; 
Nor see the tear of sorrow starting ; 
Nor hear the quivering lips that bless you ; 
Nor feel the hands of love that press you. ' ' 

Or, if not — if fully conscious in your last moments 
that you are parting from those whom you love — God 
will so strengthen and animate your dying spirit as 
that you shall be enabled with calmness, nay, with 
cheerfulness, to resign the objects of your affection 
to his merciful guidance and protection. You will 
feel that he who has watched over you so many years 
in the wilderness, and brought you safely through 
every danger, can surely do as much for those whom 
you are leaving behind ; that he who has taught you 
to pray so earnestly and so perseveringly for their 
spiritual welfare will not suffer your prayers to re- 
main unanswered, although he calls you home before 
you have witnessed their fulfilment. And you will 
also realize your happy and speedy re-union with 
your dear friends in another world. Death will not 
long divide you; the remainder of their appointed 
time on earth will pass rapidly away as a tale that is 
told, and then you will meet them again — meet to 
part no more ! 

"With the prospect of meeting for ever, 
With the bright gates of heaven in view, 



382 NEARING HOME. 

From the dearest on earth we may sever, 
And smile a delightful adieu. ' ' 

Aged believer, you are standing now on the banks 
of the river ; fear not, only believe. Remember that 
one of the reasons why Jesus Christ manifested him- 
self in human nature was for the express purpose of 
dispelling that gloom which naturally overspreads 
the mind as we look upon the dark waters of death. 
" Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh 
and blood, he also himself likewise took part of the 
same ; that through death he might destroy him that 
had the power of death, that is, the devil ; and de- 
liver them who through fear of death were all their 
lifetime subject to bondage."* Then seek deliver- 
ance from that fear, and expect deliverance. Christ 
suffered not in vain ; all the purposes of his death 
have been fully accomplished ; and he would have 
his people even now to participate in his triumph ; 
and without waiting for the actual encounter to join 
in the ascription of the apostle, " Thanks be to Glod 
which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus 
Christ!" Then 

1 ' Shudder not to pass the stream, 
Venture all thy care on him — 
Him whose dying love and power 
Still' d its tossing, hushed its roar. 
*Heb. ii. 14, 15. 



THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 383 

Not one object of his care 

Ever suffered shipwreck there ; 

See the haven full in view ; 

Love divine shall bear thee through." 

Is it granted to you to possess that strong faith, 
that calm assurance which elevates the mind above 
the fear of death ? Can you say with gladness, " The 
time of my departure is at hand : I have fought a 
good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept 
the faith : henceforth there is laid up for me a crown 
of righteousness which the Lord the righteous 
Judge shall give me at that day?"* Thank your 
Saviour for this glorious hope — this hope which is as 
an anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast — for he is 
its author and its bestower. It is because he has abol- 
ished death and brought life and immortality to light 
through the gospel, that you are now enabled to look 
forward with composure to your conflict with the last 
foe, and triumphantly to ask, " death, where is thy 
sting ? grave, where is thy victory ?"f Well may 
you rejoice, for your life is hid with Christ in Grod, 
and you are safe for ever — safe amidst the infirmi- 
ties and perils of old age ; safe in the swelling waters 
of Jordan ; safe when you stand before the solemn 
judgment- seat; yes, safe throughout eternity. JSTo- 

* 2 Tim. iv. 6-8. t 1 Cor. xv. 55. 



384 NEARING HOME. 

thing in earth or hell can separate you from the love 
of God which is in Christ Jesus, or pluck you from 
the grasp of your ever-living Saviour. He upholds 
and comforts you now in the evening of life; and 
" by-and-by, leaning upon his arm, you shall come 
down to the river. Not a ripple shall be on its 
bosom ; its clear waters shining in heaven's own light 
shall allure to the crossing. His feet shall but touch 
the stream, and, lo, a way for the ransomed to pass 
over." "Blessed are the dead which die in the 
Lord;" "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the 
death of his saints."* 

But our remarks about the river of death have 
been addressed to true Christians ; are you, reader, 
one of their number ? If not, you have no right to 
appropriate to yourself the consolations which are 
designed only for them. There is no sight more 
painful than that of an aged individual on the bor- 
ders of the grave, on the threshold of eternity, un- 
renewed, unsanctified, and yet undismayed by the 
terrors of the future, and confident of the joys of 
heaven. May God preserve us from so fearful a de- 
lusion ! " Be not deceived ; God is not mocked : for 
whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."f 
A life of carelessness — of worldliness — of self- 

* Rev. xiv. 13 ; Psa. cxvi. 15. f Gal. vi. 7. 



THE BANKS OF THE RIVER. 38 5 

righteousness, cannot prepare us for a life of glory. 
" Except a man be born again, he cannot see the 
kingdom of God." " He that belie veth not the Son 
shall not see life ; but the wrath of God abideth on 
him* "Without holiness no man shall see the 
Lord."f A change of heart, faith in Christ, the 
fruits of holiness, are the precursors of the believer's 
assurance of eternal felicity ; what do you know of 
them in your own experience ? Examine yourself, 
whether you are in the faith, or whether you have 
only a name to live while you are dead. The absence 
of alarm, or even the possession of joy, as you draw 
near to death and eternity, is not of itself an indica- 
tion of safety. It may be but the deadly calm be- 
fore an awful tempest ; a fatal slumber on the edge 
of a frightful precipice. Ignokance trembled not 
when he came to the river-side and prepared to cross 
it; he got over it with less difficulty than Christian, 
for one Vain Hope helped him with his boat ; but 
when he reached the other side, the King commanded 
his servants to bind him hand and foot, and to cast 
him into outer darkness. 

Yet while this should warn the presumptuous 
and the self-confident, it should not discourage the 
awakened sinner who feels that life is receding be- 

* John iii. 3, 36. t Heb. xii. 14. 

49 



386 NEABING HOME. 

neath his tread, and that his feet have as yet found 
no sure resting-place. The language of the gospel 
is language of peace to all who really desire salvation 
from the peril and the dominion of sin. " Come unto 
me," says the Saviour whom it proclaims, " all ye 
that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you 
rest."* It is never too late to turn to him, to seek 
forgiveness at his cross. God's promises of salvation 
are made without exception of time ; for whenever a 
sinner repents of his sins, he has promised to put 
away his wickedness out of remembrance. They are 
made without exception of sins; for, "The blood of 
Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin ;"f and, "All 
manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto 
men. "J They are made without exception of per- 
sons; for, "Whosoever shall call on the name of the 
Lord shall be saved ;"§ "Whosoever will, let him 
take the water of life freely ;"|| " Him that cometh to 
me I will in no wise cast out."^f 

Aged reader ! " Behold the Lamb of God which 
taketh away the sin of the word." Look unto him 
and be saved. How else will you pass through the 
swellings of Jordan ? how else will you stand at the 
judgment-seat of Christ? 

* Matt. xi. 28. t 1 John i. 7. X Matt. xii. 31. 

\ Acts ii. 21. || Rev. xxii. 17. \ John vi. 37. 



FROM THE GERMAN OF B. SCHMOLKE. 

Heavenwakd doth our journey tend. 

We are strangers here on earth ; 
Through the wilderness we wend 

Towards the Canaan of our birth. 
Here we roam a pilgrim band, 
Yonder is our native land. 

Heavenward stretch, my soul, thy wings, 
Heavenly nature canst thou claim ; 

There is naught of earthly things 
Worthy to be all thine aim ; 

Every soul whom Glod inspires 

Back to him, its Source, aspires. 

Heavenward ! doth his Spirit cry, 
When I hear him in his word, 

Showing thus the rest on high, 
When I shall be with my Lord : 

When his word fills all my thought, 

Oft to heaven my soul is caught. 

387 



388 NEARING HOME. 

Heavenward ever would I haste, 
When thy table, Lord, is spread ; 

Heavenly strength on earth I taste, 
Feeding on the Living Bread. 

Such is e'en on earth our fare 

Who thy marriage feast shall share. 

Heavenward ! Faith discerns the prize 

That is waiting us afar, 
And my heart would swiftly rise, 

High o'er sun and moon and star, 
To that Light behind the veil 
Where all earthly splendours pale. 

Heavenward Death shall lead at last, 
To the home where I would be ; 

All my sorrows overpast, 

I shall triumph there with thee, 

Jesus, who hast gone before, 

That we too might heavenward soar. 

Heavenward ! Heavenward ! Only this 
Is my watchword on the earth ; 

For the love of heavenly bliss 
Counting all things little worth. 

Heavenward all my being tends, 

Till in heaven my journey ends. 



||^tt toil! t\tm §ie? 



ANONYMOUS. 

Not in the solemn night, 
When dim and shadowy all things appear ; 
When thoughts are tinged with mournfulness and 
fear, 
And nature's fairest scenes are veiled from sight ; 
For darkness only throws a deeper gloom 
Around the opening tomb. 

But let the gladsome day 
Smile upon my departure ; let the bright 
And glorious sunshine image forth that light 

Which soon shall beam with pure and fadeless ray 
Upon my ransomed spirit ; let no cloud 

Life's closing scene enshroud. 

Not in the hour of health, 
Without one kind adieu or parting token, 
When suddenly the chain of life is broken, 

And our last messenger comes as by stealth ; — 
From quick transition to eternity ? 
Good Lord, deliver me. 

339 



390 NEARING HOME. 

Calm be my last farewell 
To all the joys and cares and griefs of earth ; 
On themes of precious and immortal worth 
In peaceful contemplation let me dwell ; 
As gradually fades the light of day, 

So let me pass away. 

Not in a distant land, 
Or on the bosom of the lonely sea, 
Where stranger forms would coldly bend o'er me ; 
Far, far from the loved and home-linked band ; 
Without one friend my dying hours to bless, 

And soothe my weariness. 

But gather round my bed 
The loved ones who have gladdened life's past hours: 
Let cherished objects, fondly-tended flowers, 

And well-known faces, comfort round me spread ; 
And gentle words of counsel and of love 

Point me to hopes above. 

Saviour ! thou wilt not chide 
These simple wishes twined around the grave ; 
And yet 'tis better that on death's cold wave 

My trembling vessel thou shouldst launch and guide, 
How, when, and where thou wilt: what should I fear 

With thee, my pilot, near ? 



WHEN WILT THOU DIE* 391 

Through all life's troublous way 
Thou hast sustained me. Thou wilt keep me still. 
Veiled is the future, yet I fear no ill ; 

But ready stand thy summons to obey. 
It matters little what the path may be, 

So that it leads to thee. 






REV. WILLIAM ROMAINE. 



It is appointed unto men once to die. The time is 
fixed by an immutable decree. The days of our years 
are threescore years and ten, and if by reason of 
strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength 
labour and sorrow : for it is soon cut off, and we flee 
away. If some be permitted to live longer, yet the 
infirmities of old age must arrive, bringing with them 
labour and sorrow, the forerunners of death. Circu- 
lation will become languid. The senses of the body 
will grow dull and heavy. The faculties of the mind 
will be impaired, and they will discover it by not re- 
membering proper names. 

In this decline of life believers are subject to the 
same infirmities with other men ; they have no ex- 
emption from pain, or sickness, or death ; but they 
have that which keeps up their spirits and makes 
them patient and joyful. The consolations of God 
are then most needed, and he has promised them, and 

* From "Triumph of Faith." 



392 



THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 393 

he is faithful : he never failed them who trusted in 
him. He has suited his promises to all the infirmi- 
ties of age. He knows our frame perfectly, and has 
described it with an unerring pen (Eccles. xii.), that 
when we feel the signs of old age we may apply to 
to him for grace to profit by them. The symptoms 
there given are infallibly true and just, and are as so 
many monitors, warning the man that the vigour of 
life is declining, and that the body is returning to the 
earth from whence it came. Happy is he who takes 
this warning, and remembers his Creator in the days 
of his youth, before the wearisome days come of 
weakness and pain. He has fled to Jesus for refuge, 
and finds and experiences what he has engaged to 
do for his people when heart and flesh begin to fail 
them. Blessed be his grace for the abundant pro- 
vision which he has made for their faith and pa- 
tience : he says to them, " I will be with you, I will 
never leave you nor forsake you : so that you may 
boldly say, The Lord is our helper, and we need not 
fear what the infirmities of age can do unto us." One 
of them, the Christian hero, thus encouraged himself 
in the Lord his God : " Thou art my hope, Lord 
God : thou art my trust even from my youth. By thee 
have I been holden up from the womb ; thou art he 
that took me out of my mother's bowels ; my praise 

50 



394 NEABING HOME. 

shall be continually of thee. I am a wonder unto 
many, but thou art my strong refuge." This was his 
trust; and God did not forsake him. He remem- 
bered his word unto his servant, whereon he had 
caused him to depend. There failed not aught of 
any good thing which the Lord had spoken unto him. 
Oh what great encouragement have believers to follow 
the steps of his faith ! For his God is their God, the 
same yesterday, to-day, and for ever, to young and 
old, who put their trust in him. His promise to the 
Israel of God cannot be broken. Thus he pledges 
his word of truth to them, giving them a warrant to 
pray unto him : " Let my mouth be filled with thy 
praise, and with thy honour all the day; cast me 
not off in the time of old age ; forsake me not when 
my strength faileth." To this prayer the Lord 
inclined his ear, and vouchsafed this gracious an- 
swer : " Hearken unto me, house of Jacob, and 
all the remnant of the house of Israel, which are 
borne by me from the belly, which are carried from 
the womb : and even to your old age I am he ; and 
even to hoar hairs will I carry you : I have made, 
and I will bear ; even I will carry, and will deliver 
you." These are some of his rich cordials for the 
aged, which he provided for them in his love, and 
he is sensibly touched with the feeling of their in- 



THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 395 

firmities in administering them ; for he himself 
took our infirmities and bare our sicknesses. His 
compassions bind him to comfort and relieve his old 
disciples ; and when they apply to him in time of 
need, he is ever present to grant them his promised 
help ; yea, so suited to their case as to make them 
grow in grace as they grow in years. They bring- 
forth fruit in their old age, the rich fruit of humility 
and the ripe fruit of thankfulness — fruit that endur- 
eth unto everlasting life. 

We have a happy instance of this in God's good- 
ness to an ancient believer who lived to be an hun- 
dred and seventy-five years old. He was the friend 
of God, who had blessed Abraham through life, and 
that in all things, and who even to hoary hairs 
loaded him with blessings. For God had promised 
him, " Thou shalt go to thy fathers in peace, thou 
shalt be buried in a good old age ;" and the sacred 
historian, relating the fulfilling of the promise, says, 
" He gave up the ghost, and died in a good old age, 
an old man, and full of years, and was gathered to 
his people." His old age was good in body and soul. 
Whatever infirmities he had, they were intended for 
good, and actually did him good. He was a very 
cheerful, pleasant old man. The peace of his mind 
had a sweet influence upon his temper and beha- 



396 NEARING HOME. 

viour. It kept him from being fretful and peevish 
in his family. He was loving to his children and 
kind to his servants, God himself being witness. 
He was also happy in his last years; for he spent 
them in faith, and when they came to an end he died 
in peace ; with his last breath he committed his spirit 
into the hands of him who had redeemed it, full of 
years; it is in the original one word — lie was satisfied; 
so it is rendered, Psa. xvii. 15, "As for me I shall 
behold thy face in righteousness ; I shall be satisfied 
when I awake with thy likeness." He was satisfied 
with what he had enjoyed of the favour and friend- 
ship of his God ; who had been his shield to defend 
him from, all sins and enemies, and also had promised 
to be his exceeding great reward. This he obtained 
when he was gathered to his people, to the general 
assembly and Church of the first-born, and to the 
most blissful communion of the Three- One Jehovah. 
All the children of faithful Abraham, treading in 
the steps of his faith, have the same God to deal 
with, who keepeth promise for ever. It is recorded 
of Isaac, the heir of the same promise with his 
father, that he died in the same faith an old man. 
He was tried with many infirmities, but we read of 
no complaints, though he was an hundred and eighty 
years of age. He expired in praise and thankfulness, 



THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 397 

satisfied with life, and happy in the prospect beyond 
death. And his son Jacob, an hundred and forty- 
seven years old, when he was dying declared that he 
had waited for the salvation of God. Waiting faith 
is strong faith. And after he had blessed his chil- 
dren, and had given commandment concerning his 
bones, he quietly, as if he had been going to sleep, 
gathered up his feet into the bed and died in peace, 
an old man and satisfied. All these lived in the 
world, strangers and pilgrims, looking for a city that 
hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. 
And they were not disappointed of their hope ; they 
all died in faith — in an act of faith — and were gathered 
to their people, to the general assembly and Church 
of the first-born. When they came to the end of 
their faith they came to heaven. The moment they 
expired they entered the city which God had prepared 
for them ; and their bodies sleeping in the dust are 
in the covenant of life, and shall be raised and glori 
fied in the morning of the resurrection. For our 
Lord proves that the dead shall rise from this very 
circumstance; he says to the Jews : "Have ye not 
read in the books of Moses, how in the bush God 
spake unto him, saying, I am the God of Abraham, 
and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob ? He is 
not the God of the dead, but the God of the living." 



398 NEABING HOME. 

In this faith the patriarchs died ; being children of 
the resurrection, they left their bodies in the hand 
and care of a covenant God, well assured that he 
would raise them up to glory and life everlasting, 
according to that good word wherein he had caused 
them to put their trust. 

These examples of the loving-kindness of God to 
his aged servants were recorded for our learning, 
that believers, if God by his providence should bring 
them to old age, might be encouraged to trust in the 
God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with such a con- 
fidence of their hearts as not to doubt of the divine 
truth or of the divine power. Whatever he was to 
them, he is the same to us — our Gocl as well as theirs 
— our covenant Gocl engaged to glorify both body and 
soul ; on whom we are commanded to cast all our 
cares and concerns in extreme old age. If what is 
of nature be failing, what is of grace cannot. If the 
life of sense be dying, the life of faith should flourish 
the more ; it is a life that cannot die ; for the branches 
thrive and bring forth fruit in their old age, not of 
themselves, but because they are engrafted into the 
heavenly vine, in which they live for ever. " I am 
the vine," says Jesus, " ye are the branches ; he that 
abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth 
much fruit; for without me ye can do nothing." But 



THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 399 

through his Spirit strengthening you, he will make 
you bud and flourish, and fill the face of the world 
with fruit. He will so fill you with the fruits of 
righteousness which are through Christ Jesus, to the 
glory and praise of God, that your last days shall be 
your best days. 

In this view of old age, it may become a favour- 
able time for exercising and improving faith, because 
the activity of the life of sense is abating, and thereby 
many things are removed which before obstructed 
the growth of the spiritual life. Now is the time to 
learn to walk by faith, and not by sense. A believer, 
young in years and young in experience, is often 
tempted to judge of himself by his feelings more 
than by the word of God. In a good frame he is a 
good believer. Then all is well with him. But when 
he is walking in darkness he is very apt to question 
his state — " If all be right with me, why am I thus? 
My present frame is very dull and uncomfortable ; I 
am not so lively as I used to be in prayer or in or- 
dinances ; my delight in God, and the things of God, 
is far short of what it was formerly — perhaps I have 
been deceiving myself, and crying, Peace, peace, when 
there was no peace for me." 

From this temptation age itself is a sort of de- 
liverance ; self-activity is weakened, and thereby, 



400 HEARING HOME. 

through grace, self-clependence. The believer, if he 
be a good scholar, will now learn to walk more by 
faith and less by sight. The vigour of his senses is 
decaying. The high spirits of youth are abating. 
His present lesson is very plain and simple, and 
while he attends to what is passing in him and about 
him, he has a thousand monitors calling upon him 
now to learn and practise a perfect dependence on 
those things which are always one and the same, with- 
out any variableness or the least shadow of turning 
— one record of Grocl — one Saviour — one Spirit — one 
faith, of which the Saviour is the author and the fin- 
isher. This faith is made to grow and flourish, as 
there is less dependence on other things ; and as age 
itself tends to weaken this dependence, it becomes, in 
the hand of the Holy Spirit, a favourable time to 
live less upon the things which are seen, and more 
upon the things which are not seen. Less of sense, 
more of faith. One scale rises as the other falls. 
The outward man dying, the inward man grows more 
lively — yea, grows up into Christ Jesus, and that in 
all things. blessed old man ! thou hast lived to 
a good time when this is thy experience ; when in the 
prayer of faith thou canst cast all thy burdens on 
thy Saviour : " Lord, keep me, a poor helpless crea- 
ture ; now I feel that of myself I can do nothing as 



THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 401 

I ought or as I wish to do. Glorify thy grace in me, 
and strengthen me mightily by thy Spirit in the in- 
ner man, that I may bless thee for thy salvation, and 
for the things which accompany salvation. Into thy 
faithful hands, for life and death, I commit myself 
and all my concerns ; for thou hast redeemed me, 
Lord, thou God of truth." 

But it must be remembered that old age does not 
produce these happy effects of itself. It is not of na- 
ture, but entirely of grace, that any one is able to 
gain such spiritual profit from bodily infirmities. 
The mere natural man, fortify him with all his 
boasted aids of reason and philosophy, yet cannot 
help murmuring when age brings weakness, and 
sickness brings pains. He becomes peevish and fret- 
ful. Having no friendship with God, he cannot look 
up for divine supports when all human begin to fail 
him. Under a severe fit of the stone, or a long fit 
of the gout, he is often out of all patience. Uneasy 
in himself, he is out of humour with everybody and 
everything. How different is the believer in the same 
circumstances ! His body feels pain as others' do ; but 
his mind is comfortable and at ease. Happy in God, 
he has patience given him to bear his sufferings, and 
grace to profit from them ; yea, the peace of God 
rules in his heart always and by all means. 

51 



402 NEARING HOME. 

An old man with this peace, which surpasseth all 
understanding, ruling in his heart, will be so far 
from complaining, that he has everything to be thank- 
ful for which can render him blessed of the Lord. 
He is provided with an infallible antidote against all 
that old age can try him with. It is true, I have an 
infirm body, but, thank God, I have a sound mind. 
Age has brought upon me great weakness, but this 
makes more room for the power of Grod, that it may 
be perfected in my weakness. I have many pains, 
but not so many as he has comforts to give me ; in 
the worst of them he keeps me patient. " Father, thy 
will be done." I have an afflicted body, but I have 
a happy heart ; although the outward man be per- 
ishing, yet I faint not, because the inward man 
is renewed day by day. My supports are great, 
the consolations of Grod not a few. I feel the symp- 
toms of old age warning me daily of my approach- 
ing dissolution. Through grace I take the warning. 
They find me living, and I hope they will find me 
dying, in the faith of the Son of Grod. The earthly 
tabernacle is taken down, but he does it with much 
tenderness and love, and assures me that he has pre- 
pared for me a house not made with hands, eternal 
in the heavens. May he who keeps it for me, and 
me for it, never leave me nor forsake me, till I be 



THE AGED BELIEVER'S TRIUMPH. 403 

with him, where he is, and be like him, and enjoy 
him for ever and ever ! Yet a very, very little while 
— hold on, faith and patience — and I shall see Jesus 
in his glory, which is the heaven of heavens. 

thou merciful and faithful High Priest, Jesus 
Christ, I bless thee for thy kind promises to the 
aged. Thou hast suited them in great mercy to all 
their infirmities, and thou art always with them to 
help in time of need. I begin to feel the sad effects 
of sin in my body, weakening it and tending to 
bring it down to its appointed end. To thee I look, 
almighty Jesus, for thy promised grace. grant 
me constant supplies of thy Spirit, that I may profit 
by my infirmities, may exercise and improve my 
faith in thee, that they may keep me humble, and I 
may pray more in faith ; and keep me thankful, 
that I may be more in praise. Thine arm is not 
shortened, nor can thy compassions fail. Stand by 
me then, and hold me up according to thy word. 
Make me strong in thy strength, that I may daily 
put more honour upon thy love and thy power. In 
the decline of life let me not doubt of thy faithful- 
ness to support, and, when thou seest it best, to com- 
fort me. Vouchsafe me the consolations of God; 
when my heart and my flesh fail me, then be thou 



404 NEABING HOME. 

the strength of my heart and my portion for ever. 
When I am weakest in myself, then make me 
strongest in the Lord ; and if it be thy holy will that 
I should become quite helpless, an infant again, make 
me to lie quiet in thy hand without murmuring or 
repining, but believing that thou art all my salva- 
tion, and enjoying in thee all my desire. Grant me 
this, Lord Jesus ; for thy mercy's sake, let me die in 
faith. Amen and Amen. 



itih Wag. 



MISS JOSEPHINE POLLARD. 



A little way — I know it is not far 

To that dear home where my beloved are ; 

And yet my faith grows weaker, as I stand 

A poor, lone pilgrim in a dreary land, 

Where present pain the future bliss obscures ; 

And still my heart sits like a bird upon 

The empty nest, and mourns its treasures gone ; 

Plumed for their flight, 

And vanished quite. 
Ah ! me, where is the comfort ? — though I say 
They have but journeyed on a little way ! 

A little way — at times they seem so near, 
Their voices ever murmur at my ear ; 
To all my duties loving presence lend, 
And with sweet ministry my steps attend, 
And bring my soul the luxury of tears. 
'Twas here we met, and parted company ; 
Why should their gain be such a grief to me ? 

This sense of loss ! 

This heavy cross ! 



405 



406 NEARING HOME. 

Dear Saviour, take the burden off, I pray, 
And show me heaven is but — a little way. 

These sombre robes, these saddened faces, all 

The bitterness and pain of death recall ; 

Ah ! let me turn my face where'er I may, 

I see the traces of a sure decay ; 

And parting takes the marrow out of life. 

Secure in bliss, we hold the golden chain, 

Which death, with scarce a warning, snaps in twain, 

And never more 

Shall time restore 
The broken links ; — 'twas only yesterday 
They vanished from our sight — a little way ! 

A little way ! — this sentence I repeat, 
Hoping and longing to extract some sweet 
To mingle with the bitter. From thy hand 
I take the cup I cannot understand, 
And in my weakness give myself to thee ! 
Although it seems so very, very far 
To that dear home where my beloved are, 

I know, I know, 

It is not so ; 
Oh ! give me faith to feel it when I say 
That they are gone — gone but a little way 1 



import in &tnt\.* 

FROM THE GERMAN OF N. HERMANN. 

When now the solemn hour is nigh 
That from this world shall call me, 

On what, Lord, can I rely, 
While terrors would appal me ? 

My soul and body, to the last, 

I'll on thine arm of mercy cast, — 
'Tis safe to trust thy mercy ! 

My sins may seem in number more, 
While conscience shall recount them, 

Than sands upon the ocean shore, — 
Thy grace can still surmount them. 

I'll think, dear Saviour, of the death 

Sustained by thee ; — and thus my faith 
From sinking shall uphold me. 

I am a branch of thee, the Vine ; 

My strength from thee I borrow ; 
Round thee my tendril hopes shall twine 

In death's drear night of sorrow : 

* Translated by Dr. Mills. 

407 



408 NEABING HOME. 

And when 'tis over, thou wilt give 
An endless life with thee to live 
In bliss thy sorrows purchased. 

My Lord o'er death triumphant rose, 

From earth to Grod ascended ; 
His victory yields my heart repose, 

The fear of death is ended ; 
For where he is, I too shall come, 
And find with him a joyful home : 

Why should I fear to follow ? 

With outstretched arms I'll welcome Christ, 
That he from earth may take me : 

I'll leave my flesh in hope to rest, 
Till from the grave he wake me ; 

But Christ himself will go before, — 

Of heaven for me throw wide the door, 
And bless my soul in glory. 



ANONYMOUS. 

How welcome to the aged Christian is the thought 
of heaven ! As the toil-worn labourer hails with 
gladness the hour of rest; as the wave-tossed mariner 
discerns with thankfulness the haven of safety ; as 
the weary exile approaches with feelings of rapture 
his native country; so does the believer rejoice in the 
immediate prospect of eternal glory. He loves to 
think of that moment when he shall be absent from 
the body and present with the Lord ; when the cares, 
the' conflicts, and the corruptions which surround 
him here will be exchanged for the peace and purity 
which pervade the everlasting abode of the redeemed. 
Varied are the attractions which draw his thoughts 
and affections thither. Deliverance from trouble, 
freedom from sin, increase of knowledge, separation 
from the ungodly, intercourse with the holy, commu- 
nion with his Saviour, — these and other delineations 
of the heavenly state make him ready, willing, eager 
to depart from the present life, and to enter upon 
that new and noble existence. 

52 409 



410 NEABING HOME. 

"My chief conception of heaven," said Robert 
Hall, who was an almost constant sufferer from acute 
bodily pain, "is rest" And many sons and daughters 
of affliction can respond to his remark. They have 
so much to do and to suffer, they see so much misery 
and discord around them, their spiritual foes are so 
powerful and persevering, that the sigh of the Psalm- 
ist is often heard from their lips : " Oh that I had 
wings like a dove ! for then would I fly away, and be 
at rest/'* Rest! Where? In heaven: there the 
weary are at rest. 

They rest from toil. From physical exertion and 
from mental labour. The hand no longer has to 
procure bread for the sustenance of life, and to pro- 
vide things honest in the sight of all men ; the head 
no longer has to plan for avoiding difficulties and 
distress, and to strive after a temporary relief from 
some of the cares of daily life. " They shall hunger 
no more, neither thirst any more."f "They rest 
from their labours ; and their works do follow 
them. "J All fatigue and anxiety are for ever ended. 

They rest from pain. The inhabitant of that 
heavenly city shall not say, I am sick; "neither shall 
there be any more pain : for the former things are 
passed away."§ " I shall soon be at home now," 

* Psalm lv. 6. f Rev. vii. 16. % Rev. xiv. 13. § Rev. xxi. 4. 



THE HEAVENLY REST. 411 

said an aged Christian woman, who had been for 
many years afflicted with a painful disease, "and 
then all suffering will be over. I hope I am not im- 
patient ; I am willing to bear whatever God sends, 
and as long as he sends it ; I know he is love. But 
it is very sweet sometimes, when my poor body is 
racked with pain and I cannot get a minute's relief, 
to think that I am every day nearer heaven, and to 
feel that the sufferings of this present time are not 
worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be 
revealed. What a change it will be !" 

They rest from sorrow. " God shall wipe away all 
tears from their eyes ; and there shall be no more 
death, neither sorrow, nor crying."* Yes ; God him- 
self shall wipe away their tears. The days of their 
mourning will be for ever ended, and sorrow and 
sighing shall flee away. Want, disappointment, care, 
unkindness, injustice, bereavement, and every other 
source of earthly distress, are unknown in heaven. 
The waves of grief cannot pass the confines of 
eternity. The clouds of sadness cannot float in the 
clear atmosphere of heaven. The voice of lamenta- 
tion and weeping can never mingle with the songs of 
the redeemed. 

They rest from spiritual conflict. Life is a period 

* Rev. xxi. 4. 



412 NEABING HOME. 

of warfare and trial. The foes of the Christian are 
many and they are mighty. His own unsubdued 
passions, the world, with its temptations on the one 
hand and its reproaches on the other, and the great 
adversary of mankind going about as a roaring 
lion, seeking whom he may devour, are continually 
arrayed against him ; and he must be always upon 
his guard, always ready for the encounter. Nor does 
he, except in occasional moments of discomfiture and 
depression, shrink from the battle-field. It is his 
earnest desire to fight the good fight of faith, and to 
endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. 
To ask for victory and rest from a mere love of selfish 
ease is inconsistent with his principles and feelings. 
God has called him to the contest, and when he sees 
fit will call him to his reward ; till then he is willing 
to wait and toil and struggle on. His prayer is that 
when his Lord comes he may find him watching. 
This is a right spirit. We ought not to grow weary 
in well-doing. We ought not to wish for our crown 
before our conflict is ended. But at the same time 
we may look forward to our rest with hope and glad- 
ness. In the midst of our conflict with evil we may 
soothe and refresh our spirits with the thought of 
final victory. As we press forward in our heaven- 
ward journey, encompassed by difficulties and beset 



THE HEAVENLY BEST. 413 

with dangers, we may rejoice in the consideration 
that 

"We nightly fix our moving tent 
A day's march nearer home !" 

Yes : our warfare will soon be over — our rest at- 
tained. 

And how cheering is the reflection that holiness as 
well as rest is linked with our anticipations of 
heaven ! Nothing that clefileth can enter there. The 
Church above is " a glorious Church, not having spot, 
or wrinkle, or any such thing ; but holy and without 
blemish."* The Christian, it is true, is already sanc- 
tified by the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. Sin has 
no longer dominion over him ; for the grace of God, 
which bringeth salvation, teaches him to deny un- 
godliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, right- 
eously and godly in this present world. His heart 
is purified by faith. He has put on the new man, 
which, after God, is created in righteousness and true 
holiness. He has been adopted into God's family, 
renewed in his image, and made a partaker of his 
holiness. But as yet how imperfect is the resem 
blance which he bears ! how feeble are the attain- 
ments which he has made! While he delights in 
the law of God after the inward man, he sees another 

* Eph. v. 27. 



414 NEARING HOME. 

law in his members warring against the law of his 
mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of 
sin, so that in the anguish of his spirit he exclaims 
with the apostle, " wretched man that I am ! who 
shall deliver me from the body of this death?"* 
Day by day he presses toward the mark for the prize 
of the high calling of Grod in Christ Jesus, but he is 
often sore let and hindered in running the race that 
is set before him ; sometimes he stumbles and falls ; 
and sometimes he wanders into some by-path which 
leads him into distress and danger ; and although he 
never gives up, although each revival of the sin 
which so easily besets him — each temptation to which 
through unwatchfulness and self-dependence he 
yields — only prompts him to more prayerful and 
vigorous efforts for the future, can we wonder if he 
anticipates with eagerness and delight the moment 
when he shall be freed from the defilement and im- 
perfection of his present condition, and be perfectly 
conformed to the image of his Saviour? Oh, to 
have his will entirely absorbed in God's will ; to 
have every thought in unison with his mind ; to have 
self for ever lost sight of in the radiance of his 
glory ; to be holy and unblamable, and unreprovable 
in his presence ! How delightful is this prospect ! 

* Rom. vii. 24. 



THE HEAVENLY REST. 415 

how all-sustaining is this hope ! And as years in- 
crease, as life declines, his desire after perfected holi- 
ness grows stronger and stronger, until it overcomes 
his fear of death and weakens the fondest ties which 
link him to earth. He is ready to leave all around 
him, and to press through all before him, in order 
that he may be separated from sin and be completely 
assimilated to the likeness of Christ. " We shall be 
like him !" is the thought — the glorious thought — 
which makes heaven so precious in his estimation. 
He longs more for purity than he does for rest. He 
wants to be holy, sinless, perfected. 

His desire will soon be granted, his hope realized. 
" Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after 
righteousness ; for they shall be filled." Filled ? 
Satisfied? Yes. When? In part now, in com- 
pleteness hereafter. In heaven they hunger no more, 
neither thirst any more: they are restored to the 
image of their Grod, and are faultless before his 
throne. 

And then how delightful to the thoughtful and in- 
quiring Christian — and every Christian ought to sus- 
tain this character — is the assurance that in a future 
state our knoivledge will be greatly increased ! In 
this world how limited are our highest acquirements ! 
We are like children playing on the sea- shore, and 



416 NEARINQ SOME. 

diverting ourselves, now and then finding a smoother 
pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the 
great ocean of truth lies all undiscovered before us. 
But what we know not now, we shall know hereafter. 
JSTow we see through a glass darkly ; now we know 
but in part ; but then we shall see face to face, and 
know even as we are known. Many deeply interest- 
ing and important questions which are unanswered 
now will be solved then. Many difficulties which 
perplex us now will be explained then. How nu- 
merous are the mysteries in Providence, both in con- 
nection with our own history and with the history 
of others, which will then be unravelled! How 
varied are the mysteries in religion which will then 
be clear to us as the light of noonday ! And our 
knowledge will be ever increasing. The first glance 
into eternity will not reveal to us all that it has to 
unfold. We shall be always learning something 
new — continually making fresh discoveries of the 
wisdom and power and goodness of God. And this 
without weariness, without effort, without disap- 
pointment. 

Associated with the perfected development and 
probable augmentation of our intellectual powers, is 
the noble and uninterrupted service in which we shall 
be engaged above. Alas ! how feeble and how poor 



THE HEAVENLY REST. 417 

are our best attempts now for the fulfilment of God's 
will and the promotion of his glory! How little, 
comparatively have we done ; how little can we do to 
make him known and loved among our fellow-men ! 
Frequently do we mourn over our weakness and ap- 
parent uselessness, and feel that we are indeed un- 
profitable servants. But in heaven our service will 
be vigorous, perpetual, untiring. There the weary 
will be at rest, not because they cease to labour, but 
because labour brings no fatigue; and they that 
" have entered into rest" will find this to be their 
rest, that " they rest not day and night."* 

Each glorified servant will doubtless be occupied 
in the manner which is most accordant with his in- 
dividual bias and qualification. As the cherubim and 
seraphim are supposed to have their separate and 
appropriate offices, though all stand round the throne, 
so may we expect that holy engagements will be dis- 
tributed in amazing diversity among the white-robed 
saints. But this will be the delight, that each one 
occupies his own, his proper, his favourite employ- 
ment — that for which his being is made ; no nerve 
strained ; no part burdened ; no power taxed ; but 
all easy, enjoyable, delicious, the very part he would 
have chosen ; the part he loves ; the part he can do 

*Rev. iv. 8. 
53 



118 NEABING HOME. 

best, assigned to him for ever and ever. And in this, 
his own proper province, each one will exercise his 
whole perfected being. Whatever he loves he will 
understand, and whatever he understands he will 
love ; and both his mind and his will will take effect 
through the instrumentality of a body which is in 
complete unison with his spirit ; never cumbering it, 
never darkening it, but instant and capable to do 
everything which the thought desires or the heart 
suggests ; so that it will be a perfectly intelligent 
affection, performing without diminution and without 
delay all it thinks and all it feels. Then shall we 
understand, in that entire concurrence of all the pro- 
perties which make the creature, what is the mean- 
ing of that service of which Christ spoke, when he 
said, " God is a Spirit ; and they that worship him 
must worship him in spirit and in truth."* 

And as we think of all the high functions and 
happy services of those in glory, shall we not re- 
member those loved ones among their number who 
were once co-workers with us here, and rejoice in the 
thought that we shall ere long share in their holy 
occupations and participate in their fadeless joys? 
The communion of saints on earth is sweet, but what 
will it be in heaven ? Here there is much to mar 

* John iv. 24. 



THE HEAVENLY BEST. 419 

and interrupt it ; there it will be perfect and per- 
petual. We shall be associated with " the glorious 
company of the apostles, the goodly fellowship of the 
prophets, and the noble army of martyrs ;" we shall 
sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the 
kingdom of God. We shall share in the high and 
holy converse of those esteemed by us on earth for 
the beautiful graces and gifts which adorned their 
character, and become intimately acquainted with 
others long endeared to us by their labours and their 
worth, but who, through time or varied circumstances, 
were personally unknown to us. And there will be 
no discord, no prejudices, no rivalry to disturb the 
harmony of our intercourse. We shall dwell to- 
gether as the children of one Father, as the brethren 
of one family, as the loved and loving inhabitants 
of one eternal home. 

But dearer, far dearer, than the thought of this 
complete and tender sympathy with all the redeemed 
in glory, is the prospect of that perfect and constant 
communion with our Saviour which his promises 
now unfold to our view. " I will come again and 
receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye 
may be also;" "Father, I will that they also whom 
thou hast given me be with me where I am ; that 
they may behold my glory which thou hast given 



420 NEABING HOME. 

me."* Well might one of Christ's tried and hon- 
oured servants, in the simple meditations which she 
penned as she waited for her summons to pass over the 
river, write : "To be where thou art, to see thee as thou 
art, and to be made like unto thee ; the last sinful mo- 
tion for ever past ; no more opposition ; no more weari - 
ness, listlessness, dryness, or deadness; but conformed 
to my blessed Saviour, every way capacitated to serve 
him, to enjoy him, — this is heaven." And well might 
her glowing words animate the faith and hope of that 
devoted missionary of the cross who was called, when 
at the foot of Mount Lebanon, to encounter the last 
enemy. His friends having proposed to pray with 
him, he replied, " Yes ; but first I wish you to read 
some passages from ' Mrs. Graham's Provision for 
Passing over Jordan ;' " and on hearing the words, 
" To be where thou art, to see thee as thou art, to be 
made like unto thee," he anticipated the conclusion, 
and said, with an expressive emphasis, " That is 
heaven !" 

Yes, to be with Christ, to see him as he is, that 
indeed is heaven. In our converse with him now by 
faith we rejoice with joy that is unspeakable and full 
of glory; what, then, will be our emotions when that 
glory is realized and his presence is attained ? 

* John xiv. 3 ; xvii. 24. 



THE HEAVENLY BEST. 421 

"Not all things else are half so dear 
As converse with the Saviour here ; 

What must it be in heaven ? 
'Tis heaven on earth to hear him say, 
As now I journey day by day, 
Poor sinner, cast thy fears away : 

Thy sins are all forgiven. 

"But how will his celestial voice 
Make my enraptured heart rejoice ; 

When I in glory hear him ! 
While I before the heavenly gate 
For everlasting entrance wait. 
And Jesus on his throne of state 
Invites me to come near him. ' ' 

Reader, is this happy, this heart-cheering antici- 
pation yours? What proof can you give of your 
title to mansions in the skies? Is "Christ in you, 
the hope of glory?"* Have you "the earnest of the 
Spirit ?"f Are you "made meet to be partaker of 
the inheritance of the saints in light ?"J 

Then, " rejoice in hope of the glory of Grod."§ 
Your warfare will soon be accomplished, your labours 
ended, your rest begun. Now is your salvation 
nearer than when you believed. A little while and 
you shall tread the golden streets of the holy city ; 
you shall eat of the tree of life which is in the midst 
of the paradise of God, and drink of the pure crystal 

* Col. i. 27. f 2 Cor. v. 5. % Col. i. 12. I Rom. v. 2. 



422 WEARING HOME. 

river which proceeds out of the throne of God and 
of the Lamb. A crown of glory shall be yours, and 
the waving palm of victory ; you shall hear the 
voice of harpers harping with their harps, and you 
shall join in their ever-new and triumphant song: 
" Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive 
power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and 
honour, and glory, and blessing."* "In thy presence 
is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleas- 
ures for evermore, "f 

Wherefore, beloved, seeing that ye look for such 
things, be diligent that ye may be found of him in 
peace. J " Walk worthy of God, who hath called 
you unto his kingdom and glory."§ Remember, 
that "without holiness no man shall see the Lord."|| 
And the well-grounded hope of future blessedness 
necessarily leads to present sanctification. " Every 
man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, 
even as He is pure."^| The " exceeding great and 
precious promises" are given to us, not only that we 
may be gladdened and comforted by them, but also 
that we may be made partakers of the divine nature, 
and escape "the corruption that is in the world 
through lust."** "When Christ, who is our life, 

*Rev. v. 12. fPsa. xvi. 11. % 2 Pet. iii. 14. §1 Thess. ii. 12. 
II Heb. xii. 14. IT 1 John iii. 3. ** 2 Pet. i. 4. 



THE HEAVENLY BEST. 423 

shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in 
glory. Mortify, therefore, your members which are 
upon the earth."* 

Weary and sorrowful pilgrim, the sufferings of the 
present time are not worthy to be compared with the 
glory that shall be revealed. Let the radiance of 
coming joys illumine the clouds of present grief; let 
the melody of heaven -breathed songs soothe the agi- 
tation of your troubled spirit. Oh, your " light afflic- 
tion is but for a moment," and it " worketh for you 
a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory ; 
while you look not at the things which are seen, but 
at the things which are not seen: for the things 
which are seen are temporal ; but the things which 
are not seen are eternal. "f 

Aged Christian, the time of your departure is at 
hand. The sunset of life and the night of death 
usher in the dawn of immortality. The earthly 
house of your tabernacle is about to be dissolved, 
but you have a building of God, a house not made 
with hands, eternal in the heavens. " Blessed be the 
Grod and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which 
according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us 
again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus 
Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible 

* CoL.iii. 4, 5. f 2 Cor. iv. 17, 18. 



424 NEARING HOME. 

and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in 
heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God 
through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in 
the last time : wherein ye greatly rejoice !"* 

Listen to the words of your ascended and glorified 
Saviour : u Surely I come quickly !" What is your 
earnest and heartfelt response ? "Amen. Even so, 
come, Lord Jesus !"f 

* 1 Pet. i. 3-6. t Kev. xxii. 20, 21. 



f$* |yjeir %tlitbtt at t\t Sate xrf ^mbm. 

THOMAS GUTHRIE, D. D. 

I'm kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint and sore ; 
Waiting for the dawning, for the opening of the 

door; 
Waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and come 
To the glory of his presence, to the gladness of his 

home. 

A weary path I've travelled, 'mid darkness, storm 

and strife ; 
Bearing many a burden, struggling for my life ; 
But now the morn is breaking, my toil will soon be 

o'er; 
I'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is on the 

door. 

Methinks I hear the voices of the blessed as they 

stand, 
Singing in the sunshine in the far-off sinless land ; 
Oh, would that I were with them, amid their shining 

throng, 
Mingling in their worship, joining in their song ! 

54 425 



426 NEABING HOME. 

The friends that started with me have entered long 

ago; 
One by one they left me struggling with the foe ; 
Their pilgrimage was shorter, their triumph sooner 

won; 
How lovingly they'll hail me when all my toil is 

done! 

With them the blessed angels that know nor grief 

nor sin ; 
I see them by the portals, prepared to let me in. 
Lord, I wait thy pleasure ; thy time and way are 

best; 
But I am wasted, worn, and weary; Father, bid me 

rest. 



$ttitt feWttirg, 



REV. JOHN NEWTON. 



The promised land of peace 
Faith keeps in constant view : 

How different from the wilderness 
We now are passing through ! 

Here often from our eyes 
Clouds hide the light divine ; 

There we shall have unclouded skies, 
Our Sun will always shine ! 

Here griefs, and cares, and pains, 
And fears distress us sore ; 

But there eternal pleasure reigns, 
And we shall weep no more. 

Lord, pardon our complaints ; 

We follow at thy call ; 
The joy prepared for suffering saints 

Will make amends for all. 

427 



•rattimra is watr< 



A. D. F. RANDOLPH. 



Our grandmamma is dead, Aggie : hear, Aggie, what 
I say :— 

My dear grandma is dead, and now her soul is gone 
away. 

It seems so strange without her, how strange I can- 
not tell ; 

She was often sick and tired, she is rested now and 
well. 

Sometimes I stop and wonder that her face I do not 

see, 
And sometimes I forget myself and ask where can 

she be ? 
She never made a bit of noise, she talked so sweet 

and low ; 
And yet our house seems stiller now, no matter where 

we go. 

428 



GRANDMA IS DEAD. 429 

She loved us children, Aggie ; there are three of us 

in all ; 
The oldest is my sister Jane ; and Will is strong and 

tall; 
And I am twelve ; and all of us she used to rock to 

sleep, 
When we were little, tiny things, and couldn't even 

creep. 

I miss her more and more, Aggie, — -don't wonder 

that I cry ; 
She went without my kissing her— I did not say 

good-bye ; — 
For on the morning that she died, so did my father 

say, 
She shut her eyes and went to sleep, and slept her 

life away ! 

I'd like to tell her, if but once, and so would brother 

Will, 
We are sorry for our naughty ways, — how much we 

love her still. 
That's where she used to sit, when he would creep 

behind the place, 
And take the glasses from her eyes and feel her 

wrinkled face. 



430 NEARING HOME. 

She was very old and very lame, Aggie ; sometimes 
was full of pain ; 

She never once was cross to us, or really did com- 
plain : 

Once, long ago, when she was sick, she said, I heard 
it so, • 

" Come, Lord, and take me home to heaven, for now 
I long to go." 

The day she died was stormy, and when my father 

prayed, 
He thanked the Lord for helping her that she was 

not afraid : 
I knew she was not ; many a time she did us children 

tell 
That those who love him when they die shall go with 

Christ to dwell. 

Now when I read the Bible, and about that happy 

place, 
I think that she is there, and not a wrinkle on her 

face ; 
I know she is not lame or old, that there she has no 

pain ; 
Yet somehow I keep wishing she was back with us 

again ! 



GRANDMA IS BEAD. 431 

Oh, how my mother misses her! I often see her 

cry ;— 
My father tries to comfort her, and so do Jane and I ; 
I do not wonder, it's so strange with grandma gone 

away, 
But G-od is good, my father says, and so she used to 

say! 

I keep trying to remember that he is our Father too, 
And like my father here, I'm sure he nothing wrong 

will do ; 
So, Aggie, though I can't but cry, it is all right, you 

know ; — 
The Lord he wanted her to come, and she was glad 

to go. 



totging txfitt $mbm. 



DE FLEURY. 



Ye angels, who stand round the throne, 

And view my Immanuel's face, 
In rapturous songs make him known ; 

Tune, tune your soft harps to his praise. 
He formed you the spirits you are, 

So happy, so noble, so good ; 
While others sunk down in despair, 

Confirmed by his power ye stood. 

Ye saints, who stand nearer than they, 

And cast your bright crowns at his feet, 
His grace and his glory display, 

And all his rich mercy repeat ; 
He snatched you from hell and the grave, 

He ransomed from death and despair ; 
For you he was mighty to save, 

Almighty to bring you safe there. 

Oh, when will the period appear 
When I shall unite in your song ? 

432 



LONGING AFTER HEAVEN. 433 

I'm weary of lingering here, 

And I to your Saviour belong. 
I'm fettered and chained up in clay; 

I struggle and pant to be free ; 
I long to be soaring away, 

My Grod and my Saviour to see. 

I want to put on my attire, 

Washed white in the blood of the Lamb ; 
I want to be one of your choir, 

And tune my sweet harp to his name : 
I want — oh I want to be there, 

Where sorrow and sin bid adieu, 
Your joy and your friendship to share, 

To wonder and worship with you. 

55 



grossing t\t fitter. 

REV. ROBERT F. SAMPLE. 

"When thou passest through the waters," &c. — Isa. xliii. 2. 

Solemn and still are the watchers pale, 

And quietly steal the hours away ; 
Heavily droopeth the empty sail, 

Silent the green where the children play. 

The curtains are drawn in the chamber of death, 
Through the sheltering vine faint sunbeams fall ; 

The watchers bow, with long-drawn breath, 
Casting weird shadows along the wall. 

On poised wings, lo ! the angels wait, 

And the Ancient of Days is there, 
Who pointeth afar to a golden gate, 

As faltering lips move in fervent prayer : 

" Jesus, my All-in-all ! 
To thee I cry ; 
The deep'ning shadows fall 
From yonder sky. 

434 



CBOSSING THE BIVJEB. 435 

Lead me, Saviour dear, 

Through death's dark rolling tide, 
Let faith not yield to fear, 
But strong abide. 

" Thy footsteps, Lord, I see 
Along the shore, 
And here I wait for thee 

To guide me o'er. 
Lead me, Saviour dear, 
To yonder sunlit land ; 
Let faith not yield to fear ; 
Take thou my hand. 

" Higher the waters rise, 
The billows roll ; 
Oh calm the stormy skies, 

Save thou my soul ! 
Ah ! now I see thy face, 

Thy loving words I hear, 
I praise thee for thy grace, 
I shall not fear." 

" It shall be well," said the dying saint, 
And Jesus took his outstretched hand, 
Who uttered words of tenclerest cheer, 
And sweetly spake of the glory-land. 



436 NEARING HOME. 

Enraptured we watched till the curt'ning clouds 
Concealed them all from our wondering sight ; 

Then the ringing of bells, and anthems loud, 
Told of the welcome from saints in light. 

*£* *t* *■£* *?•* »!-* *!■* 

*j» *$» *j* *x* »£• W$i 

Solemn and still are the mourners pale, 
And quietly steal the hours away ; 

Heavily droopeth the empty sail, 

Silent the green where the children play. 

There's a new-made grave in the churchyard old, 
At the family hearth a vacant chair ; 

There's gloom in the home, on field and wold, 
But radiant glory in the voiceless air. 

Liveth the sire in love's inner shine, 
Cherished shall be the mem'ries of yore, 

Linked with the light that was wont to shine 
On the old arm-chair by the cottage door. 



mcnbtu. 

HORATIUS BONAR, D. D. 

That clime is not like this dull clime of ours : 

All, all is brightness there ; 
A sweeter influence breathes around its bowers, 

And a far milder air. 
No calm below is like that calm above ; 
No region here is like that realm of love ; 
Earth's softest spring ne'er shed so soft a light ; 
Earth's brightest summer never shone so bright. 

That sky is not, like this sad sky of ours, 
Tinged with earth's change and care ; 

No shadow dims it, and no rain-cloud lowers ; 
No broken sunshine there ! 

One everlasting stretch of azure pours 

Its stainless splendour o'er those sinless shores ; 

For there Jehovah reigns with heavenly ray ; 

There Jesus reigns, dispensing endless clay. 

The dwellers there are not like those of earth — 
No mortal stain they bear; 

437 



438 NEABINQ HOME. 

And yet they seem of kindred blood and birth, — 

Whence and how came they there ? 
Earth was their native soil; from sin and shame 
Through tribulation they to glory came ; 
Bond slaves, delivered from sin's crushing load; 
Brands, plucked from burning by the hand of God. 

Those robes of theirs are not like those below ; 

Wo angel's half so bright ! 
Whence came that beauty, whence that living glow ? 

Whence came that radiant white ? 
Washed in the blood of the atoning Lamb, 
Fair as the light those robes of theirs became ; 
And now, all tears wiped off from every eye, 
They wander where the freshest pastures lie, 
Through all the nightless day of that unfading sky. 



ANONYMOUS. 

Here, 'mid death and danger, mournfully we stay, 
Everything around us yielding to decay ; 
But in the better country, sin's dark triumph o'er, 
All things are enduring — life for evermore. 

Here, with weary footsteps, in a desert waste, 
Strangers in a strange land, we pass through in 

haste ; 
Tliere our rest awaits us, our hearts are gone before, 
In that land of brightness — rest for evermore ! 

Here our courage faileth in the storms of life, 
Our hearts are sad and anxious, ruffled in the strife ; 
There the tempest endeth, the billows cease to roar, — 
All is calm and tranquil — peace for evermore ! 

Here amid our sadness silence often reigns, 
Or our voices mingle in low and plaintive strains; 
There no chord of sadness shall wake an echo more, — 
Heaven itself resoundeth — song for evermore ! 

439 



440 ' NEABING HOME. 

Here amid our sorrow sighs are often heard, 
Fondest hearts are parted, sick with hope deferred ; 
There no tear-drop falleth, hearts are never sore, 
All is joy and gladness — joy for evermore ! 

Here 'mid deepening shadows, wearily we roam, 
Looking for the day-star, the bright light of home ; 
There the clouds shall vanish, the night of weeping 

o'er, 
When the sun ariseth — light for evermore ! 

Only a little longer have we to trust and wait 
E'er we reach the portals, pass the pearly gate, 
Hear the shout of welcome from loved ones gone be- 
fore, 
In our Father's mansion — home for evermore ! 



&at a anir. 

FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. 

Theee is a land where beauty will not fade, 

JN"or sorrow dim the eye ; 
Where true hearts will not sink nor be dismayed, 

And love will never die. 
Tell me — I fain would go, — 
For I am burdened with a heavy woe ; 
The beautiful have left me all alone ; 
The true, the tender, from my path have gone, 
And I am weak and fainting with despair ; 
Where is it ? tell me, where ? 

Friend, thou must trust in Him who trod before 

The desolate path of life ; 
Must bear in meekness, as he meekly bore, 

Sorrow, and toil, and strife. 
Think how the Son of G-od 
These thorny paths has trod ; 
Yet tarried out for thee the appointed woe ; 
Think of his loneliness in places dim, 
When no man comforted or cared for him ; 

56 441 



442 NEABINO HOME. 

Think how he prayed, unaided and alone, 

In that dread agony, " Thy will be done !" 

Friend, do thou not despair, 

Christ, in his heaven of heavens, will hear thy prayer. 



rager for Bnt §,tmin$ Muofytv Iffflrito. 



* 



ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER, D. D. 



most merciful God! I rejoice that thou clost 
reign over the universe with a sovereign sway, so 
that thou dost according to thy will in the armies of 
heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth. 
Thou art the Maker of my body and Father of my 
spirit, and thou hast a perfect right to dispose of me 
in that manner which will most effectually promote 
thy glory ; and I know that whatsoever thou dost is 
right and wise, and just and good. And whatever 
may be my eternal destiny, I rejoice in the assurance 
that thy great name will be glorified in me. But as 
thou hast been pleased to reveal thy mercy and thy 
grace to our fallen, miserable world, and as the word 
of this salvation has been preached unto me, inviting 
me to accept of eternal life upon the gracious terms 
of the gospel, I do cordially receive the Lord Jesus 
Christ as my Saviour and only Redeemer, believing 

*From " Thoughts on Religious Experience, "published by the Pres- 
byterian Board of Publication. 

443 



444 NEABINQ HOME. 

sincerely the whole testimony which thou hast given 
respecting his divine character, his real incarnation, 
his unspotted and holy life, his numerous and bene- 
ficent miracles, his expiatory and meritorious death, 
and his glorious resurrection and ascension. I be- 
lieve, also, in his supreme exaltation, in his preva- 
lent intercession for his chosen people, in his affec- 
tionate care and aid afforded to his suffering members 
here below, and in his second coming to receive his 
humble followers to dwell with himself in heaven, 
and to take vengeance on his obstinate enemies. 
My only hope and confidence of being saved rests 
simply on the mediatorial work and prevailing inter- 
cession of the Lord Jesus Christ ; in consequence of 
which the Holy Spirit is graciously sent to make 
application of Christ's redemption by working faith 
in us and repentance unto life, and rendering us 
meet for the heavenly inheritance by sanctifying us 
in the whole man, soul, body, and spirit. Grant, 
gracious Grod! that the rich blesssings of the new 
covenant may be freely bestowed on thy unworthy 
servant. I acknowledge that I have no claim to thy 
favour on account of any goodness in me by nature, 
for, alas ! there dwelleth in me, that is in my flesh, 
no good thing ; nor on account of any works of right- 
eousness done by me, for all our righteousnesses are 



PRATER FOR ONE NEARING ANOTHER WORLD. 445 

as filthy rags. Neither am I able to make atone- 
ment for any one of my innumerable transgressions ; 
which, I confess before thee, are not only many in 
number, but heinous in their nature, justly deserving 
thy displeasure and wrath, so that if I were imme- 
diately sent to hell thou wouldst be altogether just 
in my condemnation. Although I trust that I have 
endeavoured to serve thee with some degree of sin- 
cerity, yet whatever good thing I have ever done, or 
even thought, I ascribe entirely to thy grace, without 
which I can do nothing acceptable in thy sight. 
And I am deeply convinced that my best duties have 
fallen far short of the perfection of thy law, and 
have been so mingled with sin in the performance 
that I might justly be condemned for the most fer- 
vent prayer I ever made. And I would confess with 
shame and contrition that I am not only chargeable 
with sin in the act, but that there is a law in my 
members, warring against the law of my mind, aim- 
ing to bring me into captivity to the laAV of sin and 
death. This corrupt nature is the source of innu- 
merable evil thoughts and desires, and damps the 
exercise of faith and love, and stands in the way of 
well-doing, so that when I would do good, evil is 
present with me. And so deep and powerful is this 
remaining depravity that all efforts to eradicate or 



446 NEABING HOME. 

subdue it are vain without the aid of divine grace. 
And when at any time I obtain a glimpse of the 
depth and turpitude of the sin of my nature I am 
overwhelmed, and constrained to exclaim with Job, 
" I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes." 
And now, Righteous Loed God Almighty, I would 
not attempt to conceal any of my actual transgres- 
sions, however vile and shameful they are, but 
would penitently confess them before thee; and 
would plead in my defence nothing but the perfect 
righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ, who died, 
the just for the unjust, to bring us near to Glod. For 
his sake alone do I ask or expect the rich blessings 
necessary to my salvation. For although I am un- 
worthy, he is most worthy ; though I have no right- 
eousness, he has provided by his expiatory death, 
and by his holy life, a complete justifying right- 
eousness, in which spotless robe I pray that I may 
be clothed ; so that thou, my righteous Judge, wilt see 
no sin in me, but wilt acquit me from every accusa- 
tion, and justify me freely by thy grace, through the 
righteousness of my Lord and Saviour, with whom 
thou art ever well pleased. And my earnest prayer 
is, that Jesus may save me from my sins, as well as 
from their punishment ; that I may be redeemed from 
all iniquity, as well as from the condemnation of the 



PRAYER FOR ONE NEARING ANOTHER WORLD. 447 

law ; that the work of sanctification may be carried 
on in my soul by thy word and Spirit, until it be 
perfected at thine appointed time. And grant, 
Lord ! that as long as I am in the body I may make 
it my constant study and chief aim to glorify thy 
name, both with soul and body, which are no longer 
mine, but thine; for I am "bought with a price" — ■ 
not with silver and gold, but with the precious blood 
of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without 
spot. Enable me to let my light so shine that 
others, seeing my good works, may be led to glorify 
thy name. Oh make use of me as an humble in- 
strument of advancing thy kingdom on earth and 
promoting the salvation of immortal souls. If thou 
hast appointed suffering for me here below, I beseech 
thee to consider my weakness, and let thy chastise- 
ments be those of a loving father, that I may be 
made partaker of thy holiness. And let me not be 
tempted above what I am able to bear, but with the 
temptation make a way for escape. 

most merciful God ! cast me not off in the time 
of old age ; forsake me not when my strength de- 
clineth. Now, when I am old and gray-headed, for- 
sake me not ; but let thy grace be sufficient for me, 
and enable me to bring forth fruit even in old age. 
May my hoary head be found in the ways of right- 



448 NEABING HOME. 

eousness ! Preserve my mind from dotage and im- 
becility, and my body from protracted disease and 
excruciating pain. Deliver me from despondency 
and discouragement in my declining years, and en- 
able me to bear affliction with patience, fortitude, and 
perfect submission to thy holy will. Lift upon me 
perpetually the light of thy reconciled countenance, 
and cause me to rejoice in thy salvation and in the 
hope of thy glory. May the peace that passeth all 
understanding be constantly diffused through my 
soul, so that my mind may remain calm through all 
the storms and vicissitudes of life. 

As, in the course of nature, I must be drawing 
near to my end, and as I know I must soon put off 
this tabernacle, I do humbly and earnestly beseech 
thee, Father of mercies, to prepare me for this in- 
evitable and solemn event. Fortify my mind against 
the terrors of death. Give me, if it please thee, an 
easy passage through the gate of death. Dissipate 
the dark clouds and mists which naturally hang over 
the grave, and lead me gently down into the gloomy 
valley. my kind Shepherd, who hast tasted the 
bitterness of death for me, and who knowest how to 
sympathize with and succour the sheep of thy pas- 
ture, be thou present to guide, to support, and to 
comfort me. Illumine with beams of heavenly light 



PBAYEB FOB ONE NEABING ANOTHER WOBLD. 449 

the valley and shadow of death, so that I may fear 
no evil. When heart and flesh fail, be thou the 
strength of my heart and my portion for ever. Let 
not my courage fail in the trying hour. Permit not 
the great adversary to harass my soul in the last 
struggle, but make me a conqueror and more than a 
conqueror in this fearful conflict. I humbly ask that 
my reason may be continued to the last, and, if it be 
thy will, that I may be so comforted and supported 
that I may leave a testimony in favour of the reality 
of religion, and thy faithfulness in fulfilling thy gra- 
cious promises ; and that others of thy servants who 
may follow after may be encouraged by my example 
to commit themselves boldly to the guidance and 
keeping of the Shepherd of Israel. 

And when my spirit leaves this clay tenement, 
Lord Jesus, receive it. Send some of the blessed 
angels to convoy my inexperienced soul to the man- 
sion which thy love has prepared. And oh ! let me 
be so situated, though in the lowest rank, that I may 
behold thy glory. May I have an abundant entrance 
administered unto me into the kingdom of our Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ; for whose sake and in 
whose name I ask all these things. Amen. 

57 



§0ir of mg fJimt^ 

ISAAC WATTS, D. D. 

G-od of my childhood and my youth, 
The guide of all my days, 

I have declared thy heavenly truth, 
And told thy wondrous ways. 

Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs, 
And leave my fainting heart ? 

Who shall sustain my sinking years 
If God, my strength, depart? 

Let me thy power and truth proclaim 

Before the rising age, 
And leave a savour of thy name 

When I shall quit the stage. 

The land of silence and of death 

Attends my next remove ; 
Oh may these poor remains of breath 

Teach the wide world thy love ! 

450 



GOD OF MY YOUTH. 451 

By long experience have I known 

Thy sovereign power to save ; 
At thy command I venture down 

Securely to the grave. 

When I lie buried deep in dust, 

My flesh shall be thy care ; 
These withered limbs with thee I trust, 

To raise them strong and fair. 



ttocwlir not ftibt jtlhmg. 

WILLIAM A. MUHLENBERG, D. D. 

I would not live alway, — I ask not to stay 
Where storm after storm rises dark o'er the way ; 
The few lurid mornings that dawn on us here 
Are enough for life's woes, full enough for its cheer. 

I would not live alway, thus fettered by sin, 
Temptation without, and corruption within ; 
The rapture of pardon is mingled with fears, 
The cup of thanksgiving with penitent tears. 

I would not live alway — no, welcome the tomb ! 
Since Jesus hath lain there, I dread not its gloom ; 
There sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise, 
To hail him in triumph descending the skies. 

Who, who would live alway, away from his God, 
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode, 
Where rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, 
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns, — 

452 



J WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY. 453 

Where saints of all ages in harmony meet, 
Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet ; 
Where anthems of rapture unceasingly roll, 
And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul? 



Stye §xrrir's mg i^ep^rir. 

ROUSE. 

Psalm xxiii. 

The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want ; 

He makes me down to lie 
In pastures green : he leadeth me 

The quiet waters by. 

My soul he doth restore again, 

And me to walk doth make 
Within the paths of righteousness, 

E'en for his own name's sake. 

Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, 

Yet will I fear no ill ; 
For thou art with me, and thy rod 

And staff me comfort still. 

Goodness and mercy all my life 

Shall surely follow me, 
And in Grod's house for evermore 

My dwelling-place shall be. 



fyt pilgrim's ftattj, 



ANONYMOUS. 



I'm but a stranger here ; 

Heaven is my home. 
Earth is a desert drear ; 

Heaven is my home. 
Danger and sorrow stand 
Round me on every hand ; 
Heaven is my Father-land ; 

Heaven is my home. 

What though the tempest rage ! 

Heaven is my home. 
Short is my pilgrimage ; 

Heaven is my home. 
And time's wild wintry blast 
Will soon be overpast ; 
I shall reach home at last ; 

Heaven is my home. 

There, at my Saviour's side — 
Heaven is my home, 



455 



456 NEABING HOME. 

I shall be glorified ; 

Heaven is my home. 
Then with the good and blest, 
Those I loved most and best, 
I shall for ever rest ; 

Heaven is my home. 

Therefore I'll murmur not — 
Heaven is my home. 

Whate'er my earthly lot, 

Heaven is my home. 

For I shall surely stand 

There, at my Lord's right hand ; 

Heaven is my Father-land ; 
Heaven is my home. 



0rn anir fftsarg. 



S. ROBERTS. 



My feet are worn and weary with the march 
Over the road and up the steep hill-side ; 

Oh ! city of our God, I fain would see 

Thy pastures green, where peaceful waters glide. 

My hands are weary toiling, toiling on 

Day after day for perishable meat ; 
Oh ! city of our God, I fain would rest — 

I sigh to gain thy glorious mercy-seat. 

My garments, travel-worn and stained with dust, 
Oft rent by briars and thorns that crowd my way, 

Would fain be made, Lord, my righteousness, 
Spotless and white in heaven's unclouded day. 

My heart is weary of its own deep sin, — 
Sinning, repenting, sinning still again ; 

When shall my soul thy glorious presence feel, 
And find, dear Saviour, it is free from stain ? 

58 457 



458 NEABING HOME. 

Patience, poor soul ! the Saviour's feet were worn ; 

The Saviour's heart and hands were weary too, 
His garments stained, and travel-worn, and old, 

His vision blinded with a pitying dew. 

Love thou the path of sorrow that he trod ; 

Toil on, and wait in patience for thy rest ! 
Oh ! city of our Grod, we soon shall see 

Thy glorious walls, — home often loved and blest ! 



LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY. 

When adverse winds and waves arise, 
And in my heart despondence sighs ; 
When life her throng of cares reveals, 
And weakness o'er my spirit steals, 
Grateful I hear the kind decree, 
That " as my day, my strength shall be." 

When, with sad footsteps, memory roves 
'Mid smitten joys and buried loves, 
When sleep my tearful pillow flies, 
And dewy morning drinks my sighs, 
Still to thy promise, Lord, I flee, 
That " as my day, my strength shall be." 

One trial more must yet be past, 

One pang — the keenest and the last} 

And when, with brow convulsed and pale, 

My feeble, quivering heart-strings fail, 

Redeemer ! grant my soul to see 

That " as my day, my strength shall be." 

459 



£a 



WILLIAM B. TAPPAN. 

There is an hour of peaceful rest 
To mourning wanderers given ; 
There is a joy for souls distressed — 
A balm for every wounded breast ; 
'Tis found above — in heaven ! 

There is a home for weary souls, 

By sin and sorrow driven — 
When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, 
Where storms arise and ocean rolls, 

And all is drear but heaven ! 

There faith lifts up the tearful eye, 

The heart with anguish riven ; 
And views the tempest passing by, 
The evening shadows quickly fly, 
And all serene in heaven ! 

There fragrant flowers immortal bloom, 

And joys supreme are given ; 
There rays divine disperse the gloom : 
Beyond the confines of the tomb 
Appears the dawn of heaven ! 

460 



CHARLOTTE ELLIOT. 

My God, my Father, while I stray 
Far from my home in life's rough way, 
Oh teach me from my heart to say, 
" Thy will be done !" 

Though dark my path, and sad my lot, 
Let me be still and murmur not, 
But breathe the prayer divinely taught, 
" Thy will be done !" 

What though in lonely grief I sigh, 
For friends beloved, no longer nigh, 
Submissive still would I reply, 
" Thy will be done !" 

If thou should'st call me to resign 
What I most prize — it ne'er was mine; 
I only yield thee what was thine — 
" Thy will be done !" 

461 



462 NEABING HOME. 

Should pining sickness waste away 
My life in premature decay, 
My Father, still I strive to say, 
" Thy will be done !" 

If but my fainting heart be blest 
With thy sweet Spirit for its guest, 
My God, to thee I leave the rest — 
" Thy will he done !" 

Renew my will from day to day, 
Blend it with thine, and take away 
All that now makes it hard to say, 
" Thy will be done !" 

Then when on earth I breathe no more 
The prayer oft mixed with tears before, 
I'll sing upon a happier shore, 
" Thy will be done !" 



tor mom*. 



ANONYMOUS. 



Life's sun a longer shadow throws, 
And all things whisper of repose ; 
Our toilsome journey soon will close, 
And we shall reach our home ! 

Here we no resting-place have found ; 
Unnumbered dangers lurk around, 
Temptations, snares, and griefs abound ; 
Earth cannot be our home. 

On let us press with cheerful haste, 
Nor precious moments idly waste ; 
For, oh ! we long those joys to taste 
Which are reserved at home. 

Only a narrow stream doth flow 
Between this dreary waste of woe 
And that fair land where richly grow 
The lovely flowers of home. 



463 



464 NEABING HOME. 

Its peaceful waters softly glide, 

And Christ through them our steps will guide, 

And land us on the other side, 

Where we shall be at home. 

Some cherished friends have gone before; 
Their conflicts and their toils are o'er, 
And we shall meet to part no more, 

"When we have gained our home. 

Their songs of welcome, sweet and clear, 
Will soon be falling on our ear; 
For we are drawing very near 
Unto our ha^y home. 

No clouds of sorrow gather there ; 
Hushed is the latest thought of care ; 
Perpetual joys those loved ones share 
Within our Father's home. 

Life's sun a longer shadow throws* 
And all things whisper of repose ; 
Our toilsome journey soon will close, 
And we shall reach our home. 



THE END. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper proces 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Oct. 2005 



PreservationTechnologie 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATIO 



1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 





I I W 



I il***. - . ■ V'?.J*1c. ■ ■ ■ ; 



■fv-V I • 



Hi 



■ 






*-# 









■ 



: --'V.: 






^H ■ 






^m 




■ 






